


The Time of the Moon

by mrsbertucci, TimeLadyoftheSith



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: AU, F/F, F/M, Fluffy Smut, Loss of Virginity, M/M, New Relationship, Vampires, Werewolves, Witches, Wizards, magick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-29
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-11-06 04:02:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 35,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11028231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrsbertucci/pseuds/mrsbertucci, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TimeLadyoftheSith/pseuds/TimeLadyoftheSith
Summary: The Magickal World exists along side of the human one, and it has done for centuries. Now someone, or something, is threatening both societies. It will take a special team to bring it to a stop. Rose Tyler, a witch who just happens to be a werewolf, finds herself in the middle of it. How can she bring this to a stop when even her own people distrust her, and just who is this strange man with an hourglass tattoo on his chest and stars in his eyes?





	1. Chapter 1

It was a typical morning as she stepped out of the building onto the street corner. Well, it was typical for the people milling around her, but for her, it was her first chance to prove herself. With that thought in her mind, she strode down the pavement, letting herself blend in with the milling morning crowds.

Rose Tyler enjoyed being amongst what her world called "Plainfolk". She didn't see the side eyed glances and forced hospitality that she got from her own society. Here, she was just another face in the crowd. The people paid her no mind as they brushed pst her with hurried apologies. Occasionally though, a dog or cat would catch her scent and shrink back to their owners protectively. Sometimes, a young child could sense her otherness and would watch with wide eyed fascination as she smiled at them. Animals and children were the only ones who could see pass the glamor charm she used to hide her scars.

She never abused glamor to make her look more attractive. That was strictly illegal except in special circumstances such as weddings. In fact, most days she simply wore makeup. She didn't have time to do that this morning.

Today, she didn't have time to savor this feeling of blending in. She was on a mission, her first solo mission in fact, and she needed to focus on the task at hand. Relaxing her senses, letting them blossom out, she caught whiff of a scent. It matched the scarf she had tucked away in the bag at her back. Although her abilities were slightly dulled for the next few weeks, she still had the elevated sense of smell and hearing that had secured her this assignment.

Following the smell on the breeze, Rose began to track her quarry. It was a man, a nasty one in fact, named Jason Hemsborne. He was a base-talent, or a man with very low magical abilities, and he had been kidnapping young virgins. The Magistrate was unsure why, as the women were dumped a few days after each kidnapping, dazed, confused, suffering from blood loss, and brutally tortured. There had even been whispers about the return of vampyres. Most of her world scoffed at that, as vampyres had been driven to extinction by the combined efforts of the magikal world and the Plainfolk. There hadn't been a reported appearance of one in nearly fifty years. Still they had to know

Rose followed the trail through the city. It wound down the streets, through alleyways, and finally came to a stop across from a school. Judging by the pupils walking up the stairs, it was an all girls school. Sure enough, Jason was seated on a bench across from the school, a mobile phone in his hand. Her job was to watch him, track his movements, and if he tried to lure a young girl away, take him down.

She settled into a chair at the small coffee shop she had stopped in front of and waited. Not wanting him to sense her magic should he wander over for a cup himself, she pulled out her bag and began applying makeup. Rose was thankful for the various videos she had discovered on the internet as well as the plethora of beauty stores that dotted the city. The progress the Plainfolk had made in cosmetics was astounding, and these newer brands of foundation, concealer, and powder expertly covered the red scars across her face and neck. The ones over her arms, legs and torso were easily hidden by clothes.

Once her face was completely done, Rose let the energy fueling her glamor fade away. She sipped at the coffee she had ordered, and dug a book from her bag. She read a few lines then glanced up. Jason was still seated on the bench, now he had traded his phone for the daily paper. To any of the Plainfolk passing by, he looked like a typical person reading the paper. Rose's keen eyes and sense of hearing told her otherwise. The pages weren't turning, and his eyes were drawn to a bush hidden path by the gate of the school.

Time passed slowly, and her watch told her it had been two hours since she had arrived. There was a muffle ringing of a bell from the school, and as if on cue, Jason's paper disappeared from view. A few moments later a beautiful young teenager emerged from the bushes and made her way across the street. She greeted him with a shy smile, and then she giggled as he stood and took her hand. Rose slid her money to the table, stuffed her book in her bag, and began to follow them.

If Rose had not been aware to what was going on, she might have missed it. They looked like couple walking hand in hand around the city. First they stopped for an early lunch at a cute little restaurant. Then he took the girl shopping. Rose did her best to stay out of sight, always blending in. Even with her advanced hearing, only few parts of their conversations were audible over the music and chatter of the various crowds.

"It's too expensive." The girl giggled, trailing her fingers over a stunning purple dress that hung on display.

"Nothing is too expensive for someone as beautiful as Eileen." Jason assured her.

It was easy to see that magic was not needed to weave a spell over this innocent young lady. All that Jason needed was the right compliments and the flash of a credit card. This unconcerned spending confirmed the suspicions that he was working for someone. Hemsborne had no employment that they were aware of, and the few times he had been brought in and released due to lack of evidence, he had been wearing threadbare clothes. Today, he was dressed exquisitely: black dress slacks, a yellow button down dress shirt, pristine dress shoes, and a flashy belt.

Bags in hand, Rose tracked them out of the store. Jason led Eileen to a slick black car, where he put away the bags. She prepared to cut in there and then, but the innocent young girl pointed eagerly at a restaurant a few blocks down the road. Hemsborne smiled and led her there. Rose followed, keeping her distance, as they slipped inside. Judging by the decor, the menu would be out of Rose's budget. She dashed around back, finding that the only back exit led into an alley that looped back to the street. Confirmed by this, she grabbed some dinner from a small chippy across the street and settled into a chair to watch. The day had been long, but it was vital that she not give up yet.

Another hour or so passed, and Jason and Eileen emerged again. This time, Eileen was hanging onto his arm looking almost drunk. In the growing sunset, many passerby did treat them as such. Rose knew differently. She could see a memory altering potion taking effect from a mile away. Now it was about to kick off.

Rose glanced up at the sky, more out of habit than necessity. She knew tonight wasn't going to effect her, but it was a habit she, and others like her, did every night. Jason didn't lead the woman back to the car right away. Judging by the way he kept glancing around, he suspected he was being followed. She contemplated an invisibility spell, but that would be a dead give away. Even a base-talent could sense one being cast, due to it's complexity. So she opted for concealment, walking next to random groups of women.

When Jason led the stumbling girl into an alley, Rose followed. It led behind some assorted businesses, and ended at the back of a garden wall. The house on the other side of the wall was quaint, but the lights were off. Rose didn't think this was his destination, as it was not suited for a place meant for torture or storing kidnapping victims. She should know that, because she had lived it herself as a child.

There was nowhere but shadows to hide now, and Rose knew it was time. She settled her bag onto the ground quietly, and prepared to cast a spell to immobilize her target.

"I see you." Jason chuckled, turning and pulling Eileen to his chest. A silver knife glistened in the security lights from the building beside them. Rose swallowed back a growl at the blade and fought against her instinct to run. Silver was dangerous.

"Let her go Hemsborne." Rose called out. She pressed the charm on her bracelet. It was enchanted to let her bosses know she had caught him and would need backup. It also indicated her location for a scrying spell. "Don't make me force you."

"I don't think so." He pressed the blade against the girl's throat. "This blade is pure silver. One knick, and you'll be in the healers care for a month." The knife nicked the limp teens skin, and a small droplet of blood spilled out. The scent carried on the air to her, and that did it. Rose lunged forward, snarling as she tackled into them. She caught the girl in her arms, pushing her to safety a few feet away, and then she began wrestling for control of the knife.

Thankfully she had worn gloves, or the blade would have burned her skin. Jason was strong, though, and without the full brute strength of her other power, Rose struggled to keep him subdued. The longer they fought, exchanging blows and kicks, the harder she had to struggle back the urge to bite and claw. Battle lust could drive the untrained insane, but Rose had spent her life fighting back her primal urges. The disjointed sobs of Eileen spurred her own, helping her maintain her clarity. She needed to take him in alive, but all her instincts wanted nothing more than to sink her teeth into his neck and rip his jugular from his throat.

"What the hell is going on?!" A loud voice cut through their struggle, and the knife slipped from Rose's grasp. Jason grabbed it and sliced it across her thigh. Releasing a yowl of pain, Rose slammed her fist into Jason's head, watching as he fell unconscious.

Thin hands pulled her off, and a magikal aura she had never smelled before wafted over her. "Get off of me you idiot!" She growled. She tried to stand, but pain burned through her. She looked down at the ripped fabric. The blade had barely broken the skin, but already her blood was hissing and boiling. She clapped one hand over it and shoved the newcomer away with the other.

"I'm trying to help." The voice said again. Rose looked over at the man. He was definitely of the magikal world, but he was dressed and smelled of Plainfolk. Whoever he was, he didn't reside on the other side of the Rift. His aura was different, unlike any she had ever encountered. Whoever he was, she had never met someone of his brand of magik before. With his unruly brown hair, pinstripe suit, and freckled face he would easily have fooled others of their world. It was easy to tell he hadn't used magik in some time. Rose only knew he was one of them, because her senses were so unfiltered.

"Help's on the way." She tried not to let him see the burning in her body. If she did, he'd probably assume she was the attacker and not the defender. The night came to life with the static and smell of magik.

From the end of the alley Rose could see the shadows and shapes of her back up arriving. "Rose! You down there?!" The sound of Amelia, one of her few friends, came echoing towards them

Rose tried to limp over to Eileen, who was now sitting up and holding her head and neck. She got to her side and half collapsed to the ground. "We're over here!" She called. The man still hadn't moved. He was fiddling with a golden chain that led to his pocket.

"You have silver poisoning." He mused, his eyes twinkling with curiosity and concern. He took a step closer.

"Well no shit, Sherlock." Rose quipped as her back up came closer.

"My name's John, actually." The man arched an eyebrow. "Tata, Rose." Then without preamble, he leapt over the wall with two strides.

Rose wrapped her arm around Eileen, who was crying. "Shhh, I've got you." She bit back the urge to puke, feeling

The others came to a halt near them. The burning was nigh on unbearable now, and Rose's body burned with fever. The smell of singed skin and boiling blood assaulted her senses.

"Rose, Rose! Talk to me." Amelia's freckled face came into fuzzy view. She touched Her leg and didn't even flinch at the growl of warning Rose gave. "We need a healer! Rose has silver poisoning." She pulled Rose's arms from around Eileen, who was being lifted by another of her coworkers, and lowered Rose to the ground. Her fiery hair and anxious eyes were the last thing Rose saw before darkness rushed over her.


	2. Chapter 2

"A werewolf, working with the Magistrate." John rolled his eyes as his sister scoffed from where she sat on the couch. "Yeah right!"

"I'm serious, Donna." John flopped down in his usual chair, picking up the lastest issue medical journal he had been reading. "The guy she was arresting cut her with a silver blade. I could see the blood curdling in the wound." He flipped open to the page he had left off on. "Plus, a squad of Magistrate officers came to help her. I barely got out of there in time."

"Why the hell would a werewolf be helping them?" Donna shook her long red hair, and scooped up the plate of cake he had brought her. "And what were you doing there?"

"I heard a fight." John shrugged as if that explained it. "Had to make sure nobody was injured. I am a doctor." He arched an eyebrow at her and reached down to pull back the lever that would make his chair recline and raise up the foot rest.

"I doubt either society would agree on that term." Donna mused, giving him a mischievous look. "Tending to wounds and illnesses in some back alley dump or abandoned hovel doesn't really count as a licensed medical practice."

"No, but it does help pay the bills." John chuckled. He had wanted to actually become a doctor or a healer, but he didn't have the papers to work in the world of the Plainfolk, and his family hadn't set foot on the other side of the Rift in nearly sixty years. It wasn't that they weren't allowed, it was just that his family's specialized magik could get them into trouble. So he settled for tending to the various magikal beings, human and non-human alike, that couldn't seek help of the magikal type.

"When your patients actually pay." Donna was just teasing, because she knew he didn't always charge. Although, the house call he'd made to Scotland last week to tend to an illegally purchased unicorn who was foaling had been quite enough to foot their expenses for six months.

"Speaking of paying the bills." John turned the page and continued reading on about a new treatment for cancer. Even though he could never be a doctor in the Plainfolk world, keeping up with their research helped him with his human clients. "How did that house showing go today. Anybody make an offer?"

"Yeah, more than what the sellers wanted too." Donna finished her cake and carried her plate to the kitchen. "I'm going out tonight. Don't wait up." She snagged her purse from the table and waved as she went out the door.

"Be safe." John called after her, not that she needed reminding. Donna was a fierce woman and an even fiercer witch to boot. God help the person who tried to harm her. If they didn't get a brain mushing slap to the face, they might just end up in the middle of World War Two smack dab between the Axis and Allied forces.

Once he was sure she was gone, John tossed his reading material aside and darted to his room. He was intrigued as to why a werewolf had been working with the law enforcement of the Magistrate, and who the man was she had been fighting. From his closet he dug out the mirror he used for scrying. He hadn't touched it in over a year, as magick left a residual energy around its user that other magickal folks could sense. He and Donna needed to keep a low profile, so magick was scarcely used in their home.

Focusing his thoughts, he waved his hand over the square glass and watched as it rippled to life beneath his fingers. The best way to find out the information was to go right to the news source. The image of the magical printing press came into view. The headline for tomorrow's paper was viewable.

Kidnapper Captured: Jason Hemsborne brought into custody by the Magistrate's first werewolf officer, Rose Tyler.

"I knew it." John murmured. He waved his hand again, dispelling the image. He stuffed the mirror under his blanket as a knock at the door caught his attention.

He hurried from his room and pulled open the door. Before him stood a tiny little girl of about six. "Are you Doctor John?" She squeaked, her tears threatening to leak through.

"I am. What's the matter?" He knelt down so he was level with her swirling teal eyes.

"My brother is very sick, and mummy sent me to find you." She sniffled, wiping her eyes. From behind her he caught a glimpse of silver. Tiny wings were hazily hidden from view, but her sadness was threatening to break through the glamor she was using.

"Let me grab my bag. Don't leave." John dashed back to the kitchen to grab the old leather bag he kept his things in. Then he joined the little girl in the hall. "Is it safe for transporting or should I drive?" Some magikal creatures didn't take to well to a wizard popping into their dwellings, especially faeries, even though they had asked for help.

"Drive." The girl choked a sob. "I don't know how to take down the wards." John took her hand and led her down to his car. He had managed to trick the licensing department into issuing him a driver's license, but that was as much as he dared to fraud the Plainfolk government.

The girl had managed to tell him her name, Eonwynn, her brother's name of Roran, and her mother's name Meorian. By the time he arrived at the tiny cottage, the girl had lost all ability to keep up the illusion. Her cream colored skin paled to moonlight silver, her golden curls now were interspaced with living flowers, and her silver wings glinted in the lights from the street.

She led John to the door, and it opened to reveal Meorian. John was caught off guard, in his rush to aid the sickly boy, and her dazzling beauty stunned him as was common for her people. "Sorry!" Meorian gasped and her body rippled. Glamor settled into place, hiding her sylvan beauty behind the mask of a common middle aged mother. "He's through here."

John nodded and followed her inside the house. Plants and fluttering insects lined the walls, a spot of pure nature in a bustling city. Roran, a fierce looking boy with jet black hair, raven skin, and golden wings lay vomiting on a bed. John knew in a instant what was wrong. "Iron intoxication." He murmured. He knelt by the bed, opening his bag. He shoved his head inside, pushing a crystal that lit up the interior. Although it appeared to be a doctor's bag from the outside, the interior was as large as a storage cabinet. He pushed the various shelves out of the way, digging for what he needed.

John pulled out bottle, vial, and boxes, followed by a small cauldron, a portable gas burner, a set of scales, and various surgical instruments. Then he pulled his head out, and began arranging his items. "How long has he been sick?" He asked calmly, as Meorian caught another wave of vomit in an empty bowl.

"Nine hours." She replied, then began cooing to her son in the language of the fae. "How could he have iron intoxication? We don't keep iron anywhere near the house?"

"Roran?" John began measuring out sage, lavender, salt, and freshly bottle spring water. "Did you eat anything in the city today?"

The boy's crystal eyes blew wide in fear and panic. He opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out with scarlet and silver bile. He had definitely ingested something. "Roran, I know it's hard, but did you swallow anything that wasn't food?" The boy nodded. "Was it on purpose?" The boy shook his black hair and began vomiting again. John dumped his ingredients into the cauldron and began stirring in the spring water. "Was it an object?" The boy nodded again. Meorian gave a startled cry and little Eonwyn began to sob harder.

"Roran, I'm going to put a sleeping spell on you. Because you are fae, I need your consent." John raised his hand to the boy's head, waiting for him to nod. Dealing with beings like the fae dictated certain rules to magik. Casting a spell on one without their consent could work, but it could also rebound and cause ten times the effect on the caster. Luckily in this age, most fae lived in peace with their magikal kinsfolk. Roran nodded, his clear eyes fluttering shut.

John touched his forehead, murmuring soothing words to him as he manipulated the magikal energy to lull the child into a slumber that could only be broken if John released him. "I'm going to need towels, lots of towels, and boiling water." John let himself fall into the cool surgical temperament he had learned from his mother and grandfather.

Eonwynn rushed from the room and Meorian followed. Alone, he turned back to his bag and began rummaging for his surgical tools. He found them tucked away in a sterile box in the bottom of the bag, and by the time he had lain them out, the family had returned. "I need to cut open his stomach, Meorian, perhaps Eonwynn should leave the room."

"I'm not scared." Her proud little voice piped up, and her wings fluttered in agitation.

"Wynnie, go to your room." Meorian ordered, and as the little girl left, she knelt beside him. "What can I do?"

"Sing to him." John sighed, cutting off the boy's shirt. "It'll help all of us focus." Meorian began singing some fae lullaby, and John smeared antiseptic balm across Roran's bloated abdomen. Carefully he made an incision, using magic to keep too much of the blood from spilling out. Then he began washing the wound with small amounts of the potion he had made. The closer he got to the stomach, the darker the silvery fae blood became. It tinted red and black, indicating the iron eroding the boy's stomach. When he finally reached the distorted organ, he cut the small thing open and plunged his fingers inside. They closed around a tiny ball, no larger than a marble.

John shoved it in his pocket and reached for the now cooling cauldron. He poured some into the boy's open stomach, then sealed the wound closed with a healing spell. Once it had knitted itself perfectly closed, he worked his way out of the boy's sick body, using the same spell to nit each and every piece back together. Seeing the skin merge back together flawlessly, John breathed in exhaustion and sagged to the floor.

Most of the time magic didn't drain its users, but being separated from others like him made using it harder. That is why most witches and wizards chose to reside in the world hidden by the rift. He had never even set foot there, so a task such as this was strenuous.

"Thank you, Doctor John." Meorian stroked her son's head. "Will he be all right now?"

John panted, pouring what was left of the potion into a vial. "Have him drink this in three hours."

"You're weakened." Meorian gasped, sliding off the bed to the floor next to him. "Let me help you."

"No, I'm fine." John sighed and gave a weak smile.

"As payment, fae do not like to be indebted," Her green eyes were intent on John as he looked up. He hadn't been planning on taking payment, but she was right, her kind did not like owing favors.

"As payment." John ran his hands through his messy hair and extended a hand, as that was how his kind exchanged energy. He should have know the wild faeries would have other methods.

Meorian took his face in her hands and pressed her lips to his. She breathed into him, tasting of jasmine and pine and the rain on a spring morning. Energy flowed through his veins, as her cool tongue rolled across his lips. Every fiber of his being danced with bird song and wind in the trees. John felt himself being heady with it all. The call of the fae was intoxicating, his grandfather's warned him in his mind, and he pulled away with a gasp.

"I'll just be uh...." He leapt to his feet, as Meorian turned back to her son, and tossed his things to his bag. As he rushed to his car, it was hard to ignore the way his body wanted to run to the nearest forest and disappear into its depths. Donna was never going to let him hear the end of this.

 


	3. Chapter 3

"You're supposed to be resting, Rosebud." The voice of Jack Harkness drew Rose's gaze up from the mountain of paperwork in front of her. Not that she could actually see the report she was writing, as he had settled his delicious bottom right on the dry portion of the page.

"I am resting." Rose grinned, gesturing to how she was seated in her chair. "Off my feet, behind a desk, and being restful."

"I meant at home, in bed.." Jack chuckled and took a bite out of the toast he was holding. "Went to the hospital to bring you these." He twirled his empty hand and a bouquet of lilies appeared with a fizzle of energy. "But the healers said you left this morning."

"I was there for a week, Jack. You could have come by any time." Rose rolled her eyes and reached for the bundle of flowers, but they dissipated into a swarm of pink butterflies. "You better cut that out, before Harriet catches you." Rose waved her hand, and the window beside her desk slid open. The fluttering swarm disappeared into the sky beyond the glass. "I can't take any more time off work, Jack." Rose huffed and waved the window shut again. "I need the money."

"What for?" Jack slid off her desk and sauntered his way to his a few feet away. "Amelia kicking you out or something." He swallowed his last piece of toast and pulled a file towards him.

Rose bit back a retort. She knew he was just teasing, but it was hard for her to talk about. Her friend wasn't kicking her out, of course, but there were other things she needed to afford. "My monthly potions aren't exactly cheap, Jack." She began working on her report again, avoiding his eyes. While Jack, Amelia, and Amelia's boyfriend Rory weren't uncomfortable with her condition, other people still were.

The Docile Moon potion was a necessity, even if it was expensive to brew and even more expensive to buy premade. Out of the world wide lycanthropic community, it was estimated that only one to two percent did not take the potion. It was only thanks to its invention fifty years ago, that she had gone to formal school or even held a steady job. Even with the laws that passed after the introduction of the Docile Moon, werewolves still tended to find themselves working unwanted or unsafe jobs. Many of the magikal world still held an underlying prejudice for those inflicted with the lycanthropy condition, including many of her coworkers.

  
"I told you, I can get you the ingredients in bulk." Jack winked roguishly at her from his desk. "I have a friend who doesn't mind giving me a discount." The salacious grin he flashed her made Rose snicker. Of course, the insatiable Jack always had a way of getting things. His friends never seemed to complain though.

"Miss Tyler." The voice of Harriet Jones, the director of the law enforcement division, cut across the slowly filling room. "My office! Now!"

Rose heaved sigh and pushed herself to her feet. She did her best to hide the still slight limp she had. Her leg was sore, but the real issue was the weakness she felt deep in her bones. She had never had the flu, as werewolves had superb immune systems, but the nurses at the hospital had informed her that it was a similar feeling. Rose's heart pounded as she made her way to the office door. She wondered if perhaps she was in trouble for coming in when she had been ordered home on bedrest.

"Have a seat." Harriet looked up as she came in and gestured to the chair across from her. Rose settled in, keeping her back straight and her chin up. "You're supposed to be at home, Miss Tyler."

"I know Madam Director, but I had some reports I needed to finish." Rose kept her voice even, professional. "I don't want my fellow officers to think that something as small as a knife wound will keep me from my duties." That was another part of it. Rose had worked harder than any other applicant to secure this position. She was 't going to lose it after just one solo mission.

"I understand your dedication, Rose." Harriet's face softened minutely as she spoke. "But, medical orders are for you to be off work for three more days." She glanced down at the file that had shimmered into existence between them and skimmed through it. "We can't have you in the office when you aren't at your best. It's just an extra two days."

"But I've already missed ten this month." Rose tried her best not to sound like she was complaining, but she really didn't want to miss any more work. There were already rumors going around that she was only being kept on as a political statement, and Amelia had told her there was a betting pool in the records division on how long it would take before they found a reason to terminate her.

"Miss Tyler, three of those days were out of your control." Harriet arched an eyebrow and picked up a quill. She scratched her name onto the bottom of the file and looked up at Rose again. "The other seven were due to a work injury. None of them will be held against you in your evaluation." She touched the tip of the quill to her chin before pointing it at Rose. "I know you feel like you've got something to prove, but rules are rules."

Rose sighed in defeat. She did have something to prove, and missing nearly half a month of work was making that hard. How could she gain the trust of her fellow officers if she wasn't actually in the office or working along side of them. "Yes ma'am."

"Just to ease your mind." Harriet finally gave a small smile. "So far, you're performance has been exemplary. I will admit, there were reservations about hiring you, but your professors spoke highly of you. You are making them proud." She pulled another file to her and opened it. "I don't care if you don't go home, but I'm not to see you back in this office for two days. Do you understand?"

Relief bubbled through Rose. Hearing praise from her immediate supervisors was one thing, but hearing it come from the Director herself was encouraging. She made her way back to her desk, trying to hide the smile on her face.

"Being sent home?" Jack asked, as Rose packed her bag.

"Just until the end of my bed rest." She replied. "So if you have any money in that betting pool on me being sacked, sorry." Rose shouldered her bag and gave him a playful wink. She knew there was no chance he or Amelia would be part of any wagers unless it was in her favor.

"Damn, and I was really hoping I'd beat out Adam." Jack chuckled. "Wanna grab dinner when I get off? My place?" His smile slid into place, and before Rose knew him, it would have made her turn into a puddle of mush. Now she knew how much of a rogue he was, it didn't have that power over her.

"Won't work on me, Jack." Rose patted him on the head and dropped a kiss to his cheek. She knew his flirtations were only friendly, and he'd given up really chasing her months ago.

"Maybe one day." He grinned and playfully smacked her rear. "Now take that bouncy bum home and get some rest."

Rose rolled her eyes and headed out into the busy plaza that linked the Magistrate buildings together. She tried to avoid the side eyed glances she got as she headed down the walkway. Most people avoided her but some tried extra hard to seem amicable. She returned nods and smiles and side stepped those who shot her fearful looks.

She tried to disguise her slight limp as she made her way to the appointed transportation spots. Materializing inside the plaza was strictly forbidden, as wards were set up to prevent this. St. John's Garden was the closest place one could enact the transport spell. Rose could see the Thames sparkling in the morning light. Plainfolk saw this area as St. John Smith Square, but existing just on the other side of their plain, the Magistrate Plaza towered behind her. She stepped onto the grass and snapped her fingers. The world tilted for a moment, zooming past her.

Her leg throbbed as she came to a stop on the corner just down the street from her her and Amelia's house. Like more and more folks their age, they had chosen to reside in the Plain world. They had been issued the appropriate paperwork to rent one half the duplex style home, so long as they behaved and drew no attention to themselves. They could have rented on their side of the rift, but each landlord had found some reason to turn them down as soon as Rose showed her face.

Rose limped her way up the sidewalk, pausing to open the small gate. She dug for the keys when the sound of a car pulling up made her turn around. A smiling redhead and a young couple got out. "Good morning!" Rose waved at the newcomers. The attached house had been up for rent for a few weeks, and it looked like this couple was interested.

"Good morning!" The ginger woman waved as they grew closer, and Rose got a nose full of that same strange smell the man in the suit had carried. She was definitely a witch, but like the other man, it had been some time since she used her energy or set foot on the other side of the Rift. Rose grimaced, hoping the dark lenses of the woman's sunglasses would hide the thin scars across her face. They did until she grew closer. "Oh!" Her smile faltered a bit.

"Hi! I'm Adrian Henderson, and this is my fiancee Blanche. You rent here too?" The man was friendly and warm, although his wife seemed taken aback by Rose's face.

"Uh yeah, my name's Rose. My best friend and I Amelia have lived here about eight months." Rose summoned a smile, but she could feel witch's gaze burning into the side of her head. Seeing the opportunity she didn't often get to knock someone down a few notches, she extended her hand to the redhead first. "And you are?"

"Donna." The woman forced a smile and shook her hand quickly. Rose felt her own smile turn from one of falsity to smug satisfaction. Then, a tattoo just under Donna's narrow shirt strap came into view. It was a simple black and gold hourglass. Donna turned to the clients. "Yeah, so let's go look inside, shall we?"

Rose let herself into her own home and shut the door. Her curiosity was piqued. Twice now she had gotten a whiff of that scent. Despite obviously not using magic, both John and Donna oozed that unique smell. It was hard to describe, like ancient books and heavy spices mixed with the ozonic taste of magic. Every other witch or wizard she had met smelled of flowers or plants.

She made her way to her room to dig for some of the scarce journals left by other werewolves. There weren't many now, but more and more of her kind were publishing their own works. Sometimes, if she was lucky, they discussed things like unique scents. It was a trait only werewolves possessed, even vampyres didn't have the ability to differentiate different magikal beings. They could only tell them apart from Plainfolk.

The sound of meowing caught her attention, and Rose snagged her book to make her way into the kitchen. Amelia's cat wanted out. Well, Amelia called Snap hers, but the brooding tomcat only came around a few times a week. He seemed to tolerate Rose, but never showed her the same affection as Amy. That wasn't a surprise, as Rose knew he could smell her infliction. "You ready to go out?" She opened the door and stepped into the small garden the two units shared

Adrian and Blanche were admiring Amy's small vegetable and herb patch, while Donna waited by the door. She caught Rose's eye and they exchanged a heavy look. Rose sighed and limped her way over to her. "I'm not a threat, you know." She murmured.

"Yeah, right." Donna scoffed, never letting her professional smile falter. "Does the Magistrate know you're masquerading as a Plainer?" She asked, arching an eyebrow.

Rose snorted, slightly offended. "Considering I work for the Department of Enforcement and Investigations, I'd say yeah." Rose watched as Snap wandered over to the couple and followed them around the garden. "Besides, even if they didn't you wouldn't tell them. You haven't been across the Rift, probably ever."

Donna made a choked noise and crossed her arms. "Yes I have."

"You sure don't smell like it." Rose made a show of taking a deep breath through her nose. "Nope, you smell like Plainfolk and a very curious scent I came across a week ago. Mind giving me a reason why I shouldn't turn in an unknown witch living out here?"

"If you enjoy living in this century, you won't." Donna brushed her fiery hair over her shoulder as her clients made their way back to them.

"You've really done well with this place!" Blanche practically crowed. "We absolutely adore it. You have to tell me your secrets. I kill every plant I touch."

"Oh, well." Rose couldn't help but smile. "You can just say Amy and I have the magic touch."

"Can't linger any longer." Donna waved the couple inside. "We still have two more places to see!"

"It was a pleasure meeting you!" Rose called after them with a wave. Her suspicions were confirmed. Whoever Donna and John were, they hadn't set foot in her world in their life, and they didn't want the Magistrate to know about it. The hunt was on, and Rose had their scent.


	4. Chapter 4

"John!" Donna's voice sounded strained as the door slammed shut behind her. John looked up from the counter where he was mashing a pot of potatoes.

"In here Donna!" He called. Donna came in the room looking like she was ready to run. "What happened to you."

"That werewolf you ran into last week."She dropped her purse to the table and ran a hand through her hair. "She bit shorter than me, blonde, favoring her leg, and named Rose?"

John froze mid mash. "Uh, well yes to all, well I assume she'd be limping a bit since she got cut. Why?" He took in his sister's disturbed appearance. "You run into her?"

"You could say that." Donna opened the refrigerator to grab a bottle of wine she normally reserved for stressful days. "She's renting a unit next door to one I showed today."

John felt a bit stunned. Sure, it wasn't uncommon for witches and wizards to live on this side, but he had always been told it was illegal for werewolves and other such hybrid creatures. At least, it had been when his grandparents left. How much could have changed in seventy years? "Did you talk to her? What did she say?" He was intrigued, and he always had been about their native world. If he could do so safely, he'd love to visit it first hand.

"Well, I tried to insinuate that I'd report her to the Magistrate, but she claimed she works for the Department of Investigation and Enforcement." Donna sipped her wine and leaned against the counter. "Then she said she could tell I'd never set foot on the other side of the rift. How could she do that?"

John scowled slightly, turning his attention to the gravy he had been cooking. "Werewolves have elevated senses of hearing and smell, even when the full moon isn't on. We know magic leaves a physical sensation when its used, so maybe it leaves a scent too." He shrugged. It was the most logical conclusion he could come up with. "Did she threaten you?"

Donna shook her head. "But my clients are going to rent there. I mean, I couldn't exactly stop them." She worried her lip and sighed. "You don't think she'd attack them, do you?"

"I doubt it." John pulled the roast out of the oven and moved it to a plate to take to the table. "I mean she does work for the Magistrate, and I'm pretty sure they keep a close eye on her." He watched as she nodded, and they settled into silent eating.

John was curious. Sometimes his clients and patients gossiped, but not usually about anything of interest. Perhaps after Donna went to bed, he'd sneak down and take a peek around. He waited until they'd finished dinner, and his sister was tucked unaware in his room to slip into his blue pinstripe suit and red trainers. He found he drew less attention wandering around at night dressed like this than in jeans and a t-shirt.

Quietly, John opened Donna's bag to get her appointment book. He found the only couple she had show around and memorized the address. He knew the area vaguely. There weren't many magikal creatures or beings in the area, so he had only passed through it. He snuck down to his car and slid into the light traffic without his sister knowing.

The drive was uneventful, and he considered himself lucky when he found a somewhat busy pub at the end of the street to park his car at. As he made his way behind the houses, skirting through yards as quietly as he could, he felt the presence of magik growing a bit. Whoever this Rose was, she definitely didn't live alone.

He found the small duplex and scurried up a solid looking oak in the back yard to watch. A pretty redhead was sitting on the small patio and soon Rose joined her carrying a bottle of wine and two glasses. "Then she said 'not if you enjoy living in this century'."

The redhaired girl shook her head and poured a glass of wine. "What the hell does that even mean?" Her Scottish accent was noticeable, and he wondered briefly what she was doing living here and not working in her own country.

"No clue." Rose settled down in a chair next to her and rubbed her thigh. John frowned. Obviously the healers at the hospital didn't do a very good job tending to her wound if she was still sore a week later.

As if on cue, the ginger spoke his thoughts. "You should let Rory take a look at you. You shouldn't still be in pain. I told you those healers seemed a bit prejudiced. You should file a complaint."

"Really Amy, I'm fine." Rose ran a hand through her short blonde hair. "I'm used to it. I won't complain, because then I'll look weak." The wind blew softly, ruffling the leaves around John. He swore under his breath as Rose sniffed the air. Her eyes traveled over, glinting in the light from the house, until they zeroed in on his spot. Her lips twisted up in a smirk, and she turned back to Amy.

"What do you see?" Her friend asked, looking around the yard. John held his breath, ready to use magic to disappear from view.

"Just a cat in the tree." Rose replied.

"Well I'm headed to bed. Jack and I have an early assignment, going in to bust up a dragon egg ring." Amelia stood and stretched. "Don't stay up too late." She dropped a kiss to the top of Rose's head and went inside.

Rose sipped her wine, and John knew she was pointedly ignoring him. When the lights in one window switched off, she finally moved. Agile, despite her wounded leg, she crossed the small garden, pulled herself up onto the low wall, and looked up at him. "I can smell you. Come down. I won't bite."

He could nearly feel the sarcasm dripping off the last three words. He smirked and lowered himself down so he was straddling the narrow bricks a foot or so away from her. "Why didn't you rat me out." He arched an eyebrow, taking in her appearance.

She looked a bit peaked, but much better than when he had last seen her. Without the makeup she had been wearing before, her scars were noticeable. She wore a pair of dark leggings, ankle high boots, and a tank top. More scars were evident across her arms and chest. Had he not known she worked for the Magistrate, his instincts would have told him to run.

"Amy's more of a hex first ask questions later." Rose chuckled, sizing him up. "Mind telling me why you're creeping around my garden? I've never had a stalker before, 'm a bit flattered."

Her easy attitude and sense of humor made John chuckle. "I understand you got acquainted with my sister today." She laughed out loud at that.

"I didn't know mutual empty threats was getting acquainted." She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and took a breath. "You smell... different." Her voice was heavy with curiosity.

"Good different or bad different?" John found himself enjoying this tiny game of skirting around the more pressing topic.

"Hmmm" Rose took another deep breath. "Just different. What are you?"

"A wizard." He chuckled, intentionally evading the truth to her answer without revealing too much. "So why exactly is a werewolf working for the Magistrate, much less practicing magic?" The question left his mouth before he realized how blunt and rude he sounded. If Donna were here, she's smack him.

"Blimey." Rose huffed a breath and rolled her eyes. "Rude much? How long has it been since you went through the Rift? You act like you've never heard of the Abolishment of Secondclass Citizenry laws." Anger flashed in her amber eyes. "I thought we could have a nice little chat, but obviously you're just another narrow minded arse." She wiggled to the edge of the wall, ready to slide down.

John felt his cheeks flood in shame. "Rose, wait." He reached out for her arm, his fingers brushing the slightly raised lines on the skin. He didn't mean to offend her, and he oddly wasn't ready for their conversation to end.

"What?!" She snapped, her voice a half growl that made the hairs on his neck stand on end. She glanced down at his fingers on her arm.

"I'm sorry. Don't go." He was being honest. He lowered his hand back to the wall and scooted a bit closer to her. "I really am sorry. You're right, I haven't been to our world. I didn't know."

"Not knowing doesn't excuse your simpleminded bias, John." She crossed her arms, fixing him with a heavy stare of disapproval. "I put up with this shit enough at work. I don't have to put up with it at home. Get lost." She shoved herself off the wall, landing roughly and limping back to the house.

"Rose wait!" John hissed. He couldn't let it end on this note. He had dealt with all kinds of magikal beings before, and he held no ill will to any who hadn't given him a reason. His parents and grandparents had taught him better than that, and a twinge of guilt at his unintentional affront surged through him. He jumped down after her, jogging to catch up, and touched her shoulder.

He saw the punch coming before she moved, his instincts showing a brief flash as soon as his fingers grasped her skin. When she spun, he threw his hands up, and his energy slowed her fist to a stop just before it reached his jaw. Shock colored Rose's face as he sidestepped her outstretched arm. As soon as he was out of range, the magik broke and she dropped her fist. "What the hell?" She gasped.

"Sorry, I shouldn't have." John ran a hand through his hair. He'd screwed up, revealing his ability to manipulate time. If she said anything to anyone at the Magistrate, he and Donna would be forced to run. Their magik was too coveted, best left to be thought passed out of existence.

"How did you?!" Rose looked at her fist then back at him. "That's impossible! I'm warded! You shouldn't be able to do that!"

"I have to go!" John stumbled back from her. "Forget me, Rose. Forget you ever saw me, please." A loud yowl cried from the tree above him, and before his powers could kick in, a massive orange ball collided with his chest, hissing and scratching at him. Pain stung at his chest as the sharp claws tore the shirt and coat he was wearing.

"Snap! No!" Rose rushed forward, grabbing the angry cat from his chest. It took a swipe at her face, and she gave a guttural growl. The cat leaped from her arms and took off across the grass into the shadows. "Sorry, Amy's cat is a bit protective." She moved closer, sniffing the air. In the low light her pupils dilated, almost obscuring her honey colored irises. "Oh, you're bleeding."

"So I am." John winced as her delicate fingers found the blood. "I have to go. Like I said, forget me."

"Let me tend to this first. It was our cat after all." Before he could protest she had pulled the rips wider and was letting the soothing sensation of her energy flow over the oozing cuts. At the feeling, shivers ran down his spine. Her time lines were beautiful, spiraling around her as her energy blossomed. Threads of pink and yellow danced in his mind, and another hazy vision slammed into his mind. She was laying on his bed, her eyes closed and lip pinned between her teeth. The tingles in his spine shot lower, and he wrenched away from her hands.

"I really have to go." John knew he was stuttering, but that vision was too much. It was only a possible future, not a fixed point. He couldn't get involved. There was too much at stake. Without another word, he sprinted to the wall, leapt over it in one jump, and took off to his car.

He wasn't sure how he made the drive back, as confused and panicked as he was. John locked his bedroom door behind him, even though Donna was fast asleep by now.

"You're an idiot." He stared at his reflection in the mirror, taking in the torn material. He swallowed when he saw that his birth mark had been exposed. The black and gold hourglass was the symbol of his lineage, and if Rose saw that she could look them up. He didn't doubt for one minute that she would obey his orders to forget him.

He shed his coat and shirt, digging for a pair of pajama pants. When his eyes fell on the bed, he was haunted by the vision he had seen. John sighed and flopped down on the blanket, burying his face in the pillow. He had bungled it up, no doubt about it. The problem is, that he couldn't see how bad it could be.

"Just show me!" John groaned into the pillow, willing his and Donna's timelines to reveal something, anything about the future. They stayed blissfully blank. He knew they would. They couldn't use their powers to see their own futures, only those of others. He rolled over, staring at the ceiling. He tried to banish the image of Rose from his mind, but he couldn't. Sleep evaded him for what seemed like ages, and when he did finally dream, it was of a wolf with honey colored eyes.

 


	5. Chapter 5

"Oh shut up." Rose slung the lilac colored slime dripping from her fingers onto the floor of the sanitation room.

"I told you to watch out for the bulb." Jack laughed, stripping out of his leather jacket and tossing it in the corner. "You should have listened."

Rose shot him a bird and kicked het boots off as his belt hit the floor with a clang. "No, Jack, you said 'don't touch the bulb'. I didn't touch the bulb, I barely breathed on the bloody bulb."

Their day had started off great. First was a simple check on a local botanist that had been accused of trading in illegal poisons. Turns out her ex-husband was just upset because she had refused to give him some rare flower he had grown before their divorce. That had been a simple exchange of custody and a court order for filing a false charge.

Next on the list had been the quarterly inspection of a registered phoenix aviary. Again, everything went smoothly. All of the birds were healthy, treated well, and properly contained. Lunch had been equally uneventful, but then they had been given an assignment to go check out a warehouse that Plainfolks had been complaining to their government about. That is when things had gone properly pear-shaped.

Some idiot, who had fled before they arrived, was running some jar and cage black market. Various animals and plants were kenneled up or potted precariously throughout the warehouse. Some of the creatures looked like they were hybrids, like the distorted cobra bird that had squawked and spit venom at the glass cage it was in. Others were highly totally banned from Europe, as they had no natural predators. Rose had been carefully annotating each and every one she found until Jack had called her into a back room.

The plant was hanging from the ceiling, a large lavender bulb at the center of a lustrous bloom. The smell had been intoxicating, but her brain told her it wasn't toxic. All she had done was lean in to sniff the flower when, boom, the bulb had exploded. Lilac colored slime and gunk coated her and Jack from head to toe, as well as sticking to every inch of the room. Flos Dissiliunt, that's what Jack had called it. Exploding Flower, quite the literal name.

Apparently it was used in quite a few potions designed for mending. The flower itself was difficult to come by, growing only in the highest trees of mountain ranges. One bulb would cost her entire year's salary. It wasn't exactly banned, but highly regulated. Now Rose knew why. The adhesiveness of the nectar was astounding, putting any Plainfolk invented type to shame. If this had gotten out to the populace, the cover up would have been strenuous. Not a single cleaning spell had gotten it off of them, and the sanitation team had tried them all. All that was left was a firm scrub down with some intricate tincture and the hottest water they could stand.

The problem was there was only one shower station equipped to handle this type of mess, and they had to share. "I hate you." Rose huffed, tossing the last scrap of her clothes towards the basket they had been given. She kept on her bra and panties, as they had avoided being contaminated. She literally shoved Jack out of the way and stepped into the pelting stream of scalding water.

"Oh, so she likes it rough." Jack laughed and stepped under the water with her, not even caring that he was completely nude. "I knew there was something to all that growling and sass." He tickled his fingers along her back playfully.

Rose was glad he was enjoying this, because she was beginning to think her hair would never come clean. "You'll never find out." Rose quipped, reaching for one of the bottles they had been given and a coarse sponge. She poured the tart smelling liquid onto it and began scrubbing her skin roughly. "Eyes front." She could see him sneaking peeks at her when she looked up at his face.

"But the view is so lovely." Jack waggled his eyebrows at her. If it had been anyone else, she would have kneed them in the groin, but Rose knew Jack was harmless and he had seen her far more exposed than this. That had been her fault, really, as she shouldn't have curled up to sleep during the last full moon in her living room. Jack had swung by to pick up Amy for work, and gotten quite the eyeful of her change back. "Seriously, Rose." His voice grew quieter. Rose moved her head out of the water to hear hum better and scrub her hair. "You hide your scars all the time. I think they are just as beautiful as the rest of you."

"Well nobody else does, Jack." She fought back a frown as she wrestled one particularly bad ball of gunk from her hair. Thankfully the water had long since turnd her skin red, because his sincere compliment had finally managed to make her blush. She couldn't have him knowing that. "And flattery will get you nowhere right now." Rose grabbed another bottle, soaking her hair and picking more globules from her hair.

"I know, but I mean it." He had managed to clean his short hair and face already, and began helping her get the last half of her head clean. "Oh, I also tracked down that book you were looking for. The one on obsolete family symbols."

He had Rose's attention now. She had looked everywhere for a book like that, but none of the shops held them. The Harkness family was an old and respected one, and Rose knew their libraries were expansive. She had asked him to take a look around. "You're the best!" Rose grinned at him, then winced as he pulled her hair freeing the last chunk. "I knew I kept you around for a reason?"

"Oh, besides my devilishly tempting good looks." Jack tickled her again before ducking out of the water stream to grab a towel and head out to change.

Rose waited until she heard him leave the room and stepped out. Someone, Amy probably, had procured her some dry clothes and shoes. She dried off and dressed quickly. She made it to the main conference area just in time for the daily debriefing.

"So, the kidnappings have started up again." Director Jones waved her hand over a map on the wall. Sparkling red dots began appearing. "This time, in Wales. Now, the style is all the same. Hemsborne is still in custody, so that means someone is either copying him or simply filling in where he left off."

Rose leaned against the wall near Amy. "This doesn't seem like a copy cat." She murmured. "Have you been able to get anything out of him?"

"Not a thing." Amy sighed as some senior supervisors began discussing sending some of the more experienced officers northward to help with the investigation. Rose waited to hear her name called, but it wasn't. She felt a tinge of disapproval flood through her. She had been the only one able to track down Hemsborne. How did they expect to find this new person?

"With that being said, for those of you who live on the other side, I need you to keep an eye on your neighborhoods." Director Jones brought everyone back to attention. "If you see anything out of the ordinary, anything at all, you are to report it. You're dismissed."

Rose and Amy pushed away from the wall. Amy looped her arm through hers as they meandered outside to the plaza. "I'm staying the night at Rory's. Do you mind being alone tonight?"

"Not at all." Rose shrugged as Jack jogged over to them and held up the book he promised. "I'm going to be doing some research anyways. Thanks Jack."

"Anytime." Jack grinned and slung his arm over Amy's shoulder. "Think Rory would be opposed to a third?" He winked cheerfully at them.

"Not that I would complain, Harkness." Amy snickered and shook her head. "But Rory doesn't share with other men."

"Sounds like Rose has a shot to join in then." That made Amy laugh out loud, and Rose couldn't help to as well. There wasn't often an opportunity to pull one over on Jack, but this was too good to pass up.

"Who says I haven't already?" She purred, watching as his eyes went wide in surprise. "Rory's birthday was last month, and you know how Amy likes to go above and beyond."

"Shame you missed it." Amy giggled and shrugged his arm off. They had reached the section of the plaza that branched off to the hospital. "See you two later."

Rose watched her go. "Edwin was asking about you, by the way." She gestured to the bookstore owner who was walking out of the records building with a box. "His girlfriend just left him last week. He looks like he could use some comfort."

"I'm good at comforting." Jack chuckled and took off in that direction.

Rose made her way out to the safezone and twirled the energy around her as soon as her feet hit the grass. A few moments later she was stepping onto the path near her home. She hurried inside to change into some more comfortable clothes and grab a sandwich.

Food in hand, she went outside to savor the last bit of daylight as she read. The book was quite thick and heavy, but luckily there was an index. She perused it, going off of the scant details she had to use: time magic and hourglass. Nothing was listed in the index except names. Rose frowned and began leafing through the pages. Many of the older families had specialized powers, but as the branches of their trees hand interwoven, the unique abilities had blended together until everyone shared a bit of everything.

Perhaps she was wrong in this idea. Maybe John and Donna's family had never lived in her world. She stared at the pages, willing herself to find a clue. It was hard to pinpoint particular families as everything went first in alphabetical order then chronological. Chronological, that thought made Rose stop. There was something all of the specialized families had in common, their surnames reflected their abilities: Sturm, Vadas, Mata, and so many more. Rose flipped to the index again. Chronological, time, Chronos, her finger found the name and she flipped to the page.

"The Chronos family has long been revered as the House of Time. The first to display this ability was the Lady Gallifrey." Rose murmured the words under her breath as she skimmed down the page. Despite marrying out into other branches, their ability had not been watered down or shared. Each marriage produced exactly two children, but slowly their tree stopped expanding. The last known Lady of Time was a woman named Idris. During World War Two, the Magistrate had tried to force her to reverse time, so that they could send a team back to stop Hitler as a child. The war had spilled over into the magikal world, causing factions to form.

Idris had been young, still in school at the time, and had refused. They had tried to force her, but she vanished from the school. Her family's home had burned to the ground a few days later, and three mangled and charred corpses had been found inside. The lineage had been declared ended. The bottom of the page bore the family crest: an hourglass of black and gold. It was simple, compared to the other crests, but it made a statement.

Rose had seen it before, twice. She closed the book, satisfied at her discovery. "John Chronos." The name suited him, unique, simple, but complicated.

She chewed her sandwich, watching as the stars and waxing crescent moon came to light in the sky. Rose would be lying to herself if she said it was only the conundrum of who he was that had her so intent on solving this. She was more intrigued by him. He was handsome, in an unconventional way, and despite his slight rudeness, he had seem genuinely apologetic about his behavior. Even after he knew what she was, he had wanted to talk.

Rose carried the book to her room and pulled on a pair of trainers. It was a long shot, but she knew she could find him if she tried. His scent was still lingering around the tree, faint, but detectable. She inhaled deeply and tracked it down the road. It had been three days, but luckily it hadn't rained. John's trail ran cold at the pub at the end of the street.

Disappointment threatened to break over her as she pondered where he could live in this city. Somewhere away from the rift, far enough that if he or his sister used magic, they wouldn't be detected. There were very few areas of London that were off limits for witches and wizards to live. It would be a smart place for the siblings to hide out, if they could blend in.

Rose grinned and focused on the closest one. The energy around her bent and twirled, as she came to a stop in an upscale neighborhood. Keeping out of sight, she hurried down the streets, finding no trace of either Donna or John. Not one to give up so easily, she focused on another and felt the world move.

When she shimmered into existence, the late evening breeze caught her hair. That spicy aroma was heavy here. She had found them. It wasn't exactly a lower class neighborhood, but it was obvious that the residents had menial jobs and income. The scent led her to a small building that house four or five flats. John and Donna's essence was heavy here, as was the faint tinge of magic. Every house on the block had some sort of basic warding against natural disasters or fires. They obviously cared about their neighbors.

"Yeah, 'm on my way now." Donna's voice caught Rose off guard and she ducked into the shadow of a car. "No, tell Nerys to keep her wig on. I'll be there in twenty!" The ginger woman slid behind the wheel of a blue car and drove slowly down the street.

Rose debated with herself. She wanted to go up, confront him, but the manners her mum had drilled into her head threatened to stop her. It was rude, showing up unannounced. "Rude indeed." Rose muttered to herself. Hadn't John watched her from her own yard. "Tit for Tat, Stalker." Rose grinned to herself and darted across the street to the narrow fire escape. She made her way stealthily up the metal steps, pausing at each window to sniff inquisitorially. The first few only had traces of their smell. The last one, at the very top, was cracked open, and it was saturated with the enchanting aroma of John.

A shadow of movement caught her attention and the light to the room flicked on. John strode in, pulling off his shirt and tossing it on the bed. His brown hair was mussed, and for a moment Rose pondered how it would feel to run her fingers through it. Her musings were interrupted as his hands went to his belt. Okay, she knew there was a fine line between observing and leering. She cleared her throat loudly, smiling wide as his head snapped up and he spotted her.

"Rose!" He rushed to the window, pushing the curtains the rest of the way aside. "What the hell are you doing?" John's brown eyes were full of shock.

"How does it feel to be spied on?" Rose pushed away from the rail to stand in front of the window. She gestured to the crack that was even with her knees. "It's not polite to leave a lady on the landing." She chuckled.

"How did you find me?" John arched an eyebrow, not even moving to open the window more.

"I told you." Rose breathed against the glass. "You have a very unique smell."

"Damn it, you crazy woman." John seemed to war with himself before reaching down to pull the window up more. "Get in here before the neighbors call the police."

Humming with victory, Rose slid into the room and smiled up at his irritated gaze.


	6. Chapter 6

John scowled at the small blonde woman standing in his room. She seemed all too pleased with herself at tracking him down. She was wearing makeup again, hiding the pink and red patterns that decorated her skin. He found that he wasn't sure he liked her covering them up.

"What are you doing here?" He closed the window and pulled the curtains tight. When he spun around she was perched on the edge of his bed, smiling smugly up at him. Her tongue peeked out playfully from the corner of her lips. He had to admit to himself that it was the most endearing grin he had ever seen in his life.

"Call me curious." She crossed her left leg over her knee and watched him intently. John was suddenly acutely aware of his half dressed state. He grabbed his shirt off the floor and pulled it back on.

"Yeah, about what?" He straightened his shirt out and crossed his arms. What could she possibly want from him. Rose seemed cordial enough, but she did work for the Magistrate. The last time those bloody stiff-shirts had gotten involved with his family, they had nearly killed his grandmother.

"About why you're hiding." Rose tilted her head, those whiskey hazel eyes never faltering as they tracked his movements. Fear raced through his heart. Was she planning on reporting back to the magistrate? This was it. Maybe he could freeze time down enough to disappear and find Donna. They'd have to run. They had before, when he was little.

"Going to report me to your bosses?" John couldn't help the contempt in his voice. "You have no idea what you are messing with."

"Oh, I have a little understanding, John." The syllables slipped from her tongue and slapped him in the face.

"Get out." John grabbed her by the arm, trying to ignore the way the pink and yellow threads sparked to life in his mind. They danced teasingly with his, tempting numerous possibilities he couldn't give into. "Before you ruin everything."

"I'm not going to turn you in." Rose jerked her arm away and scowled at him. "At least, not unless you turn out to be part of all this panic going on at work."

John's stomach clenched. Some of his patients had been talking. He knew about the kidnappings, but he was definitely not behind it. "What do you want to know?" He grabbed the chair at his desk and pulled it over. He crossed his ankles resting them on the bed. There was obviously a reason for her presence, and he was curious as to what. He hadn't left on the best note.

"What's your surname?" Those amber eyes were sparkling in amusement. He knew without having to answer that she knew it already. "McCrimmon." He kept his voice even. The smile she gave told him she knew it was a lie.

"Hmmm," Rose shook her head and leaned forward. "Because I did some research on that tattoo you and your sister have. From what I found, your name is Chronos."

John was impressed, but still, he couldn't relax around her just yet. He may as well show her she didn't know it all. "It's a birthmark, not a tattoo." It was his turn to smirk at her being caught off guard.

"Why are you still hiding, after all these years?" And there it was, the real reason for her impromptu visit. The answer wasn't so simple. There were many reasons, but one summed up the majority of it.

"The Magistrate wants to abuse our power." John dropped his feet to the floor and leaned forward to meet her eyes. "You can't just go back and change history. They've never seemed to understand that concept, so they tried to force it of my grandmother. They almost caused a fifteen year old girl to kill herself, just so they could have their way."

Anger he hadn't felt since he was a child coursed through him. John surged to his feet, pushing the chair away. "We don't have a choice! Do you think we want to live like this, hidden away? Having to pretend to be something we aren't just to blend in. You can't even begin to understand." He turned away from her, staring at the window.

"I don't understand?" Rose's voice wasn't loud, but the disbelief in it was like a punch to his back. "I don't understand? Ha! I have lived my life, since I was six years old, pretending to be something I'm not. I'm a fucking werewolf. I can't even walk around without long sleeves and a face full of makeup without being treated like an outcast. Hell, even with all that on, I don't belong. You don't see me hiding away."

John had nearly forgotten what she was. She was so confident in her posture, so sure of herself. Rose had told him things had changed, but maybe not as much as she had let on. "I'm sorry." He turned, wondering if he was about to be slapped, but she was still perched on the edge of his bed. Her smile had dissipated to a flat line, and her preciously amused eyes were a bit dark. "I forgot about that."

Rose looked stunned. "You forgot?"

"Well, yeah." John tugged his ears. He was normally good at reading people, but her face was blank. "You don't have any reason to hide though. You said there were laws-"

"Yeah, laws" Rose cut him off with a snort. "Laws let me go to school and have a job, but that's about it."

"How do you do that anyways?" John was curious about that. He had been trained, by his grandfather, to tend to werewolf bites so they would heal and not cause a fatal infection. Now that he thought about it, he hadn't responded to an attack, ever.

"A potion, difficult to brew, but it works." Rose shrugged. "It doesn't stop the change, but I retain my human mind and control. I take it the day before the full moon, and I'm basically just me in a wolf body." She tried to play it off as if it didn't bother her, but John could see the sadness in her eyes.

They regarded each other in silence. It wasn't awkward, or uncomfortable, just silence. Rose would look him over, as if appraising him, and John took the time to observe her back. She was beautiful, in a unique sort of way. She had mastered the art of looking relaxed but still being aware of her surroundings. He noticed that every once in a while, she drew a deep inhale and let it out slowly. The longer he watched her, the more he saw. She had friends, but she was lonely. He knew the feeling. He had a few Plainfolk friends of his own, Sarah Jane and Martha. They both lived along the street and occasionally invited him over or out, but it wasn't a true friendship. They could never really know him.

"I think we got off on the wrong foot." He walked over to the bed to sit down. "Let's start over. I'm John Chronos." He held out his hand.

Rose took his hand in hers and they shook. "Rose Tyler, pleasure to meet you."

"Well, since you're already here, I do believe the polite thing to do would be to offer you tea." John gestured towards the door. He stood, waited for her to follow, and led her into the kitchen.

Rose leaned against the counter as he went to work heating the water and getting down to mugs. "You seriously forgot I was a werewolf?"

Her amusement caught him off guard. "Yeah. I didn't even think about it after you told me you knew my last name. I was too worried about a bunch of enforcement witches busting down my door." John held up two boxes of tea for her to choose from.

"I don't know whether to slap you or kiss you for that." Rose pointed to the one in his left hand.

"Well, I'd prefer not to be slapped, but I never kiss on the first date." He poured the now boiling water into a mug and got the milk and sugar out. "So you really aren't going to turn us in?"

"Nope." Rose took her cup and smiled lightly. He found he enjoyed the way it lit up her face more and more. The image of that vision came to his mind, and he shoved it aside. That was a path he couldn't let himself go down. "Have you been to Wales lately?"

"No. Last time I left the city was a month or so ago to go to Scotland. Why?" John took a slow sip. Before Rose could answer, a knock came from the door. "Wait here."

He set his cup down and made his way into the short hall. He peeked through the peep hole to see who was there. John tapped his head on the doorframe in frustration. It was little Eonwynn again. It was a risk letting her in, but she wouldn't come if it wasn't important. He lifted the chain and slid the bolt back. "Hello Eonwynn. What's wrong? Is Roran still sick?"

"No, Doctor. It's me this time." The slim little fairy looked pain. "I had an accident. Can you help me?" Her teal eyes shimmered with tears.

"Come on in." John stepped aside to let her past. "I have company, but it's okay. You can let your glamour down."

Eonwynn breathed a sigh of relief and shivered. The air glistened for a moment, and then John saw the problem. The bottom half of her wing was bent at an odd angle. The thin, but normally strong membrane was torn and leaked silver drops. "I snuck out, and I got chased by the police. I tried to fly away, but I hit a fence."

"Come in the kitchen." John could hear Rose set her cup down. Here came the moment he would find out if she would turn them in. "I'll set it back in place and seal it up." He took her cool hand in his as they came around the corner.

"Werewolf!" Eonwynn hissed, her lovely features snarling into a defensive warning. The flower vines in her hair twisted and coiled angrily. She ducked behind John's legs.

"Easy now." John patted her arm and lifted her up to the counter. "This is Rose. She's a friend of mine. Rose, this is my friend Eonwynn." He glanced over to where Rose was staring at him in shock. "You wait right here while I grab my bag."

Eonwynn relaxed a bit, her original charming face falling back into place. "Yes sir." Still, her swirling eyes never left Rose.

John darted into his room to grab his bag. When he returned, Rose was offering the girl a biscuit she had dug out of a jar. "Treats are for after the visit." He chuckled, but didn't try to take it away. "Okay Eonwynn. This may hurt a bit, but I'll be gentle." He brushed his fingers down the thin cartilage. Luckily, due to the flexibility of the structure, it wasn't fractured. With a swiftness born of years training under his grandfather, he pulled it back into place.

To Eonwynn's credit, she held still, only giving a slight squeak of pain. "Okay, now I'm going to heal this rip. It might tickle and itch a bit, but try to hold still." John placed his palm on the tear. He channeled his energy, feeling it ripple back together under his touch. "All done." He took arm and helped her down.

"All I have to pay is this." She produced a single pound note from her pocket. "Is that enough Doctor John?"

"Well that's good, because today all visits are only fifty pence." He dug in his pocket, pulling out a coin and passed it to her. "Now, straight home." John led her to the door and watched as she shimmered her glamour up into place and hurried down the hall.

"So this is what you do then?" He turned to find Rose leaning against the wall watching him. "You illegally offer healing services?" To her relief she was smiling, and it was another one of those tongue touched ones.

"Yep." John held out his arms as if to ask what she was going to do. "Gonna turn me in, give me a fine." He crossed his arms, arching an eyebrow at her. He pretended to be nonchalant about the whole thing, but his heart raced. She could call the Magistrate right now. All she had to do was press the charm on her bracelet.

"Wouldn't dream of it." Rose crossed to him stopping a few inches away to look up at him. "It'll be handy having a doctor around who doesn't flinch at the sight of me." She took another one of those deep breaths, and her eyes fluttered shut for a moment.

"Well." John dragged the word out and reached up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Guess that means I'll be seeing more of you then." He found himself suddenly hoping he would. There was something about this bold woman, the way she took everything in stride.

Rose's amber eyes opened, and she reached forward to tap his chest. "Is that a problem?" She tilted her head a bit, catching her bottom lip between her teeth. John's heart skipped a beat as he recalled that exact image from his vision.

"Not at all." He reached up to pull her hand away, and this time another vision racked through him. It was crystal clear, shining, and so vivid he nearly lost his breath. Rose was kissing him under the sunset sky among some deserted field. She broke away with a breathless huff as night closed around them. The moonlight broke through the clouds and cascaded her bare cream skin with light. With a muffled groan, she crouched to the ground, and grabbed at the grass.

The vision broke as Rose pulled away. "You okay?" John gasped as her face came into focus. "Was it the healing? I know they say being on your own too long can cause exhaustion."

"No, it was a vision." John ran a hand over his face. "I'm sure you read up on my lineage. Comes with the bloodline." He stepped past her. "You should go. Donna will be home soon, and I don't think this is how I want to tell her you'll be coming around more often."

Rose nodded and headed for the door. She paused and turned back around. "I'm glad I met you." Such a simple sentence, but he knew without a doubt it wasn't one she used often. "Good night." The door closed behind her before he could respond.

"Damn it." John pulled at his hair. This wasn't going to end well. Two visions just by touching her. Never before had that happened to him, but never before had he been so intrigued by a woman. She was something else, and the timelines refused to show whether it was for good or bad.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait. This chapter did not want to work well for me! Still a bit unsure. Hope you enjoy.

Rose sighed as she read the same line of the report she was writing for the third time. She reached up to adjust her ponytail and rolled her shoulders. She knew she had to focus, but there were too many things swirling through her mind. It was only four days until the full moon, and that wasn't even the least of her thoughts. One, Amy thought she might be pregnant but hadn't told her yet. Two, her mother had invited her over for dinner since the first time she moved out. Three, more and more girls were going missing. This time they were disappearing from London again. The most disturbing part to Rose, is she couldn't figure out which of these things were more terrifying. 

Then there was this whole conundrum in the visage of John Chronos. Whatever free moment Rose had not worrying about the other issues were spent thinking of him. Crushes had never been something she had given a consideration to. Growing up she had focused on her lessons and making sure she had an impeccable record. With all the odds stacked against her, Rose had not even given a second thought to finding someone she was attracted to. Sure, Jack flirted shamelessly with her, but Jack would flirt with an alpaca if he could. 

Yet here she found herself, thinking about a man she had only met three times, and wondering when she could see that eye crinkling toothy smile again. Then again, maybe she was overthinking things for no reason. He had been nice to her, but that didn't mean he found her appealing. Rose didn't exactly know how to flirt anyways. Her only experience was with Jack. She also flirted with Amy a bit, mostly for pretend, when they hit the pub at the end of their street. 

Rose groaned inwardly and tried again to focus on the report. It was boring really, most of her assignments were boring lately. Some idiot had attempted to smuggle a baby griffin through airport security, claiming it to be an exotic bird. Well, that had ended with Rose and Amy having to bust out a few bottles of memory potion. Then they had to talk to the liaison officer who was assigned to the airport to ensure the poor thing was on the next flight home. Crime, for the most part, was at a record low for their area. What did occur was usually so menial that it could be sorted out with a citation. While there was a slight increase of smuggling going on, it wasn't all that bad. 

Rose put the finishing touches on her report and carried it over to the completed box for records to process. "Tyler." Adam, the supervisor for their division, waved her over to his desk. "I'm gonna need you to join Miss Pond down in Trap Street. Harkness isn't coming in today, so she's doing patrols on her own." 

"On it." Rose touched two fingers to her brow and headed out the door. Trap Street was the main merchant road in London. Amy, when she wasn't interrogating criminals, pulled the shift in the southern end. Normally, Rose wasn't sent out, but today was the first day of the school shopping crowd. The main concern was making sure that the youngsters didn't get too unruly. It didn't seem like that big a deal, but Rose knew just how tedious a bunch of hormonal teenagers armed with magic could get. 

She headed out to the safety zone and called on her energy. With a satisfying thud, her boots landed on the cobblestones. The first thing she saw was Amy pulling two burly teenage boys apart. Now normally the brassy Scotswoman could handle her own, but Rose wasn't sure which pregnancy test she had seen in the trash that morning was the right one: positive or negative. "Hey! Break it up." She rushed over grabbing one of the boys by the back of the shirt and yanking him away. This close to the full moon, her strength was beginning to increase. 

The boys came apart with a yelp and the one Rose was holding spun around, his fist balled up. She snagged it deftly in her hand and twisted it, shaking her head as he dropped to his knees. "What's the meaning of all this?" 

"He was messing with my girlfriend." The other one panted. 

"Define messing." Amy huffed, holding him back as Rose kept the one she had on the ground. 

"I bought her flowers and chocolate." The one Rose had a grip on defended. "I wasn't messing with her." 

"Did your girlfriend complain about the gifts?" Rose arched and eyebrow, looking at the red faced teen Amy was still struggling with. 

"No." He grumbled, his eyes zeroing in on the other angrily. 

"Who threw the first punch?!" Amy called out to the group of teens who had been observing. 

"Austin!" A pretty teen with chestnut hair and moss green eyes pointed at the one Amy was holding. Tucked in her arm was a small bouquet of flowers and a tiny bag of candy. "Marcus was just defending himself.

"Priscilla!" Austin hissed, his face flashing betrayal. 

"I think." Rose helped Marcus to his feet and waved her hand over his bleeding lip and nose. "That maybe you should get a new boyfriend, Priscilla." The bleeding stop and Marcus' lip fused back together. 

"Bitch." Austin spat a globule of blood across the space, and it splattered on Rose's arm. 

"And assaulting a Magistrate official is a crime." Amy rolled her eyes and snapped her fingers. Silver threads wound around Austin's wrists, pulling them together behind his back. 

"Yeah well my Dad says she's nothing but a werecunt who got her job out of pity." He barely said the words before Amy waved her hands over his mouth and he went silent.

"And That's quite enough of that. I'm gonna take him in. I think a few hours in detention should simmer him down." Amelia shot Rose a smug smirk and in a glimmer of air, they were gone. 

"You alright, Marcus?" The insult hadn't phased Rose. She'd heard worse when she was in school. She brushed the dirt off his back with a smile.

"Yes ma'am." He wiped the blood left on his chin with a sleeve. "Sorry bout that." 

"Now, you go on and find your parents. Try to stay out of trouble." Rose patted his shoulder and shook her head as he wandered over to his friends. 

Rose dug in her pocket for a napkin to wipe her arm, but a clean towel slid into her vision. "Here you go sweetheart." The voice of her mother drew her gaze up. Jackie was offering her a handkerchief. 

"Mum! What are you doing here." Rose took it and wiped the bloody spit from her sleeve and then stuffed it in her pocket. 

"Shopping." She held up a bag. "Getting things for dinner on Sunday. You're still coming right?" Jackie's face was tense. She had her mother hadn't exactly been on the friendliest of terms since she took the job at the Magistrate. It had always been Rose's ambition, even before her infection. Jackie had railed against it, fearful that she would go the same way as her dad.

Rose frowned and shook her head. "Full moon Saturday and Sunday. I can't." She tried to sound too offended at the slip up. When she lived at home, her mother had kept track of the lunar cycles religiously. The fact that she had forgotten after only five months was a bit hurtful. 

"Right, sorry." Jackie looked a bit abashed and shifted her bags. "Maybe the weekend after?" At least her mother was trying to mend the bridges, Rose had to give her that. "Well, I better get these home." 

"Right." Rose gave her mother a quick hug. "Love you, stay safe." 

Jackie sighed and hugged her with one arm. "I'm not the one who needs reminding to stay safe, Rose. Love you." 

Rose watched as she walked away then continued her patrol. Since word had gotten out about her successful take down of Hemsborne a few weeks back, many of the furtive glances she normally received had flittered away. For the rest of her shift, things were relatively quiet, and when Mickey showed up to relieve her, she hurried home. 

Amy was reclining on couch, which was surprising. Usually she met up with Rory after work. Rose kicked off her shoes and stripped off her black jumper she had been wearing. "We need to talk." She flopped down on the couch, lifting Amy's long legs up to rest them on her lap. 

"Bout what?" Amy closed the book she was reading and tilted her head against the back of the sofa. "Everything okay after I left today?" 

"Not about work." Rose drummed her fingers against Amy's smooth and worried her lip with her teeth. She wasn't sure how to broach this. It wasn't even an area she had ever considered. "I'm your best friend, yeah?" 

Amy snorted and raised an eyebrow. "Well yeah, have been for twelve years. What's this about?" 

Rose signed and looked down. "I went to empty the bin in the loo before work this morning." She stilled her fingers, flexing them over Amy's knee. "I saw two pregnancy sticks in there. One said positive and one was negative..." she let her voice trail off, glancing over at her best friend through the curtain of her hair. She was afraid she would think Rose had invaded her privacy. 

"Is that what's been bothering you all day?" Amy gave a light chuckle. "It's negative. Went to the healers before work and got checked. I didn't even think you would see them, I was in such a rush this morning." 

Rose relaxed a bit but she had to know if Amelia was okay with the outcome. "Were you hoping it was positive?" Rory and Amy had only been together for a few months, but that didn't mean they hadn't discussed it. 

"Gosh no!" Amy laughed and shook her head. "I'm not ready for a kid!" Her face lit up as if she suddenly remembered something. "Speaking of kids, this little girl dropped a letter off for you when I got home." She reached for the book and pulled an envelope out. "I think she was a faery, but if she was she was glamoured pretty well." She held it out, waving it teasingly. "Why would a faery bring you a letter?"

Rose took the envelope and tore it open neatly. She didn't even have to pull the letter out to know who it was from. John's scent wafted off the paper, and her stomach did flips. She opened it slowly, her heart beginning to race. It was odd for her to feel this way, like she was dreading it was him saying he couldn't see her again. 

Rose, 

I wasn't sure how else to get in contact with you. I know most of our kind avoid technology such as phones and computers, but I hope you didn't think I was avoiding you. 

If meant what you said about getting to know each other more, I'll be waiting by the wall at seven. I know that's just before sunset, but hopefully your roommate will be less inclined to hex me if it's daylight out, and you're not home. 

Sincerely,   
John  
Aka: The Unflinching Doctor

P.S. I hope you like chips

Rose let out a breath she wasn't aware she was holding and felt her cheeks flush. She folded the letter, pressing it to her chin. John wanted to see her, for dinner, tonight. She glanced down at her watch. It was already six fifteen. She hadn't even showered, and she probably looked a total mess. Anxiety flooded through her as she tried to calculate how long it would take her to shower, change, and do her makeup. 

"Rose Marion Tyler!" Amy gasped and sat up quickly. "Are you blushing?! You never blush!" Rose covered her face and shook her head. Why had she read the letter in front of Amy? 

"Is that? Is that a love letter?" Amy snatched the paper from Rose's hands and made to open it. 

"It's just a letter!" Rose yelped and tried to snatch it back, but Amy was agile. Her giggling roommate jumped from the couch and leapt over the coffee table. "Amy, seriously!" Rose scrambled to her feet, giving chase. Amy squealed in delight and dashed into the kitchen. 

"Oooooo, chips in a garden at sunset." Amy waved the letter with a smug smirk. "That, Rose Tyler, is a date!" 

"It is not!" Rose shook her head and yanked the letter back. "He's just a friend, sort of." Rose folded the letter and tucked it into her pocket. 

"Mickey is your friend." Amy snickered and pointed a finger at her from across the table. "Jack is your friend. Neither of them have made you blush or get flustered like that!" She bounced on the balls of her feet and giggled. "I have to meet him!" 

"I've only spoken to him three times, and only once on purpose." Rose rolled her eyes. That's all it was, just friends. He was probably just wanting to keep her in his sights so she wouldn't report him. Not that she ever would, unless she found out he was doing something dangerously illegal. Living hidden, helping people for cheap, that wasn't so bad. "He isn't interested in me like that. I'm a-" 

"Don't say it." Amy shot her a stern look. "He obviously isn't anymore worried about that than I am. Trust me, I know men." She put heavy emphasis on the word know and smirked smugly. "This is a date. To the bathroom, now! You need to shower. You smell like sweat and wet dog!" She dashed around the table grabbing her arm.

"Oi!" Rose made a rude gesture with her finger. "I do not smell like wet dog!" She followed along behind Amy's babble, her mind racing. When it came to things like dating and dancing, Amy was a man expert. Rose was bewildered. She wasn't the dating type. Hell, the only kiss she'd ever shared was with the squealing woman holding her. That had only been on a drunk dare by Jack. Rose stared at the shower as Amy slammed the door behind her. 

"I'm going to pick you out something to wear!" She called from the other side of the door. 

Rose stared at her reflection in the mirror, suddenly more nervous that she had been on any mission. Criminals she could handle. Danger staring her in the face was a breeze. She swallowed and turned on the shower. . 

Amy knocking on the door stirred her from her musings. "Make sure you shave your legs!" She ordered. 

Rose stripped off her work uniform and tossed it in the basket. She stepped into the water and began to scrub off the makeup and sweat. The last time she had felt this uncertain, she had been six years old in the back yard of her childhood home, waiting for the moon to rise and tell her if she would change. She couldn't decide if this time, it was going to end better than that time.


	8. Chapter 8

John pulled himself up the wall and settled on the top next to the two styrofoam boxes he had brought. The sun was still above the horizon, but the sky was beginning to tinge pink and gold behind him. He didn't need the watch tucked into his pocket to tell him he was early by seven minutes. He settled onto the sun warmed stones, tugging at his already loosened tie.

He still couldn't figure out if this was a brilliant idea or a terrible one. He had tried to ignore thoughts of Rose, but the harder he tried the more her smile teased him. This morning he had caved into his desire to see the way her eyes lit up and sent her the letter. He watched the house nervously, wondering if she would step out the door.

Movement caught his attention, but it wasn't Rose. Amelia was coming into the kitchen, barely visible through the curtains. She was moving her hands, and her voice carried a snippet through the half opened window. "Yes I'm sure!" She shook her head and made a twirling motion with her finger.

John swallowed, prepared to jump back over the wall if she and whomever she was talking to looked outside. The red hair disappeared from view. He relaxed, trying to calm his pounding heart, when she came back in view again and pulled two bottles of soda from the refrigerator.

The door opened just a crack and then was slammed shut again. John pulled his feet up, ready to run if it wasn't Rose who was about to step outside. This was too hazardous. He was sure he insane for even thinking about doing this. Then the door opened again, and he nearly tumbled forward off the wall.

Rose stepped out into the evening light and her eyes found his. She was wearing a jean skirt, black boots that laced up over her ankles, a black and pink sleeveless shirt that hugged her curves in all the ways that would make a man go mute, and her hair was pinned back with a simple black pin. Her makeup was done flawlessly, but the heavy eyeliner and mascara he had become accustomed to seeing on her was all winged and etched in a way that made her amber eyes look so much more intense.

John's stomach clenched. She looked ready for a night out with friends, not for a conversation in a garden over take away. Did she have a date? Was she going to tell him that she couldn't talk? All of his worried thoughts flew out of his head when she smiled. It was a sweet, almost shy, one and the nervousness there seemed to mirror his own. She was holding the two bottles of soda tensely in front of her chest.

The door opened again, and a long arm pushed through and shoved Rose off the doorstep to the grass. Then it closed quickly. Rose half turned, hissing unintelligibly under her breath, and then faced him again. She bit her lip, and, not for the first time, John wondered how that lip would actually feel trapped between his own. He shoved that thought aside. Rose couldn't be interested in him that way, despite what his visions had shown. He was a shadow, a risk, someone who could cost her everything she had worked for. She was too smart for that.

Still, she was crossing the grass to him, and John dropped from the wall. He tucked his hands in his pockets, rocking on the balls of his feet to hide his uncertainty. "Hello." He plastered on his toothiest smile, hoping that she couldn't see through it.

"Hello." There it was, that tongue touched smile. Rose took a deep breath, looking up at him slowly. John wondered exactly why she always did that around him. He couldn't smell anything except his cologne. Her pupils dilated briefly then flickered back to normal as she exhaled. "I smell chips."

"Oh, right." John turned and reached up to grab the containers, then he looked around. Did she want to eat over at the tiny patio table or go inside? He couldn't go inside, Amy was in there. "Um where did you want to?" He gestured uselessly with his free hand

"Here's good." Rose pointed at the grass beneath them. John scrunched his nose. The grass would make her legs itchy.

"Hold these." He pushed the boxes into her hands and shrugged the blue pinstripe coat from his shoulders. He knelt down, spread it across the soft blades, and then folded his legs to sit.

Rose's cheeks flushed a bit under the makeup, making the already powdered pink skin turn a lovely shade. He watched as settled onto the material, tucking her legs so the skirt wouldn't ride up. When she passed him a bottle, he took it and opened up their rapidly cooling snack. They nibbled for a bit, silently, but then John looked up to see her staring at him. "So." Their voices hit the same pitch, dragging out the single syllable, and Rose laughed.

"Amy's peeking out the window isn't she?" Rose glanced to her left, without moving her head. John looked up in time to see a flash of ginger hair and the curtain shut.

"Yep." He popped the p and tossed another chip into his mouth.

"How much did you tell her?" John didn't doubt the Rose had kept his identity secret, but she had obviously told her friend something.

"Nothing." Rose shook her head, her cheeks flushing again. This time it spread downwards, almost hiding the raised, pink lines that ran in a set of three down her neck to her chest. "She, um, stole the letter and read it after I did." Rose cleared her throat and shrugged a bit. "She just assumed..."

"Assumed what?" John took a swig of his drink. He wasn't particularly fond of the fizzy stuff, but it helped wash the salt from his mouth. His nervousness was subsiding. This was okay, just two adults sharing a meal.

"It's stupid, because she doesn't know how we met and all that." Rose shifted and took another bite. Obviously she didn't want to go further. As if she were suddenly aware of his gaze, she curled her fingers over the marks on her chest. The sun was sinking lower, cooling the night around them, and the shining gibbous above them started casting faint light into the growing darkness.

"Well, you could tell her how we met." John chuckled at his own confusion from that night. "I nearly bungled a very important arrest."

"Actually, you helped." Rose's admission hit him with a bit of surprise. "If you hadn't startled us, he may have gotten the better of me."

"But you're stronger than him." John knew that. It was common knowledge that lycanthropy elevated the carrier's basic skills.

"New moon." Rose shrugged. "Except for my hearing and sense of smell, I'm pretty much average during that week or so."

John knew he was usually more talkative than this, but he was unsure of what to say. "Tell me something about yourself." That wasn't exactly the most subtle subject change he could manage.

"My favorite color is pink." Rose looked a bit shock that she admitted that out loud.

"Your timelines are partially pink." His mouth spoke before his brain could take control. He snapped his lips shut, digging his fingers in the dirt.

"My what?" Rose gave a soft snort of confusion and furrowed her brow.

"Timelines. It's hard to explain." John mentally kicked himself. This was a door he definitely didn't want to open, but now it was gaping wide. "Everything living has them. Your possible futures, pending decisions, each one is like a thread. Usually they are simple colors: white, black, red, or even gold. When I meet someone, sometimes I can see them."

"And mine are pink?" Rose tilted her head, as if analyzing this tidbit of information.

"And yellow." He averted his gaze. "Which isn't a common color combination." If he didn't stop yammering, he'd start blabbing about his visions.

"Can you see the choices, the decisions?" Rose picked up her drink and took a sip.

"Not usually. I have to focus or be caught of guard. Then I get glimpses of possible futures." He had never talked about it with anyone but his family before. It was odd, like sharing a secret.

"Your visions, like when I was at your house." Rose didn't meet his eyes, and he wondered if she knew that she was dancing along a very personal line. Her lips closed around another chip.

"Exactly like that." John hummed, willing her to understand that he wouldn't discuss it further. "How old are you?" He already knew the answer. He knew the precise age of every human he met.

"Twenty one." Rose was being truthful. She was a bit younger than him, as he had just turned thirty. "You?"

"Thirty." He finished up his meal and closed the container. She followed suit and covered her upper arms with her hands. John realized that she must not have been the one who decided on this outfit. Every time he had seen her before, she had taken care to cover the most noticeable of her scars.

"That's not too big a difference." Rose's other hand came down to cover another trio of lines that led from the edge of her skirt and around behind her knee. Suddenly it clicked: the slightly daring outfit, the artfully applied makeup, the snooping flatmate who was once again closing the curtains as he glanced over. Amelia had assumed this was a date.

No wonder Rose kept blushing and covering her exposed skin. She was well out of her comfort zone. The clueless idiot he was, he had assumed she was going out with someone else later. He would offer his coat, but it was currently being used as their makeshift picnic blanket. The thought of asking her if she wanted to cover up suddenly seemed a bit insulting. Her scars were perfect, at least to him. Combined with her skin and hair, she was like her timelines had been given body. "You don't have to hide them from me, you know."

The surprise on her face made him worry. That was definitely over the line. "Excuse me?" Her voice wasn't angry, but it was a bit brusque. "I know I don't have to cover them up, but you wouldn't stop staring at them." Her eyes flickered in anger for a moment, and John regretted the sudden tension he had caused.

This time he let his brain make the decision on what to say. "I wasn't staring at the scars, Rose." He extended a finger and tapped her chin. "I was looking at you."

She brushed his hand away, and the moment their fingers touched, the air around her danced pink and yellow. He focused his mind, willing them to fade away. They did, but not without resistance. "You want to know, don't you?" Her voice was both accusing and questioning. "Everyone else knows, but you were out here. I doubt you heard." Her eyes narrowed, and she dropped her hands to her side, knocking over her bottle.

"I wasn't going to ask, but since you brought it up, yeah. I want to know." He pulled his hand back, leaning forward so his arms draped over his crossed legs. He had told her a very intimate part of his own life. It was only fair that she share something as equally valuable.

Rose met his eyes, holding them, daring him to look away from her. It was totally night now, only the kitchen window and the nearly full moon lighting the world around them. John held her gaze, letting her know that he wasn't backing down now. Then her irises changed, just for set of heartbeats. Instead of warm whiskey they flashed a feral yellow. Her pupils blew wide, so large he could see his face reflected in them. He'd seen enough of nature in his life to recognize a challenge of dominance. He leaned forward, never breaking away from the contest she presented. "You don't scare me, Rose." He meant it to come out firm and authoritative, but instead it was a heavy whisper.

She narrowed her brows more, drawing in a deep breath before pulling back. She blinked and her eyes returned to normal. John wasn't sure exactly what that test was about, but he had obviously passed because she spoke. "I was six, two weeks after my birthday." He relaxed back, letting her know he was listening. "My dad was investigating a rash of burglaries that had been happening in one of the smaller villages near where we lived. There was a Plainer witness. Described two teenage boys perfectly. They were pack brothers, meaning they shared the same sire."

Rose shuddered and shook her head. "Those of us who want to live in society don't form packs. We try to stay by ourselves or keep to just one or two others. Packs tend to make us a bit more aggressive, even with the Docile Moon potion." John nodded. He had heard his grandmother say something similar once. "Anyways, my dad caught them selling some of the stolen goods one night, and he arrested them. Their sire was not happy."

Rose paused for a moment to breathe. Despite the fact that she had obviously told this story before, it was hard. She reached for her drink, frowning when she realized it had totally emptied on the grass. John looked down at his still most full bottle, and passed it to her wordlessly. After a few swallows, she continued.

"Anyways, their sire, his name was Jimmy Stone, he felt like my father was unjustly targeting them. He wanted revenge against my dad for his boys being in jail. He said he wanted him to know how it feels to have a child discriminated against." Rose grew quiet again. She adjusted her position, and took another swallow of soda. "He lured me right out of my mums garden while she was inside. He promised to show show me a newborn unicorn foal that needed help. Instead he took me out to this old house. He locked me in a cellar. It was the day before the full moon."

Rose looked like her entire body was frozen. The longer spoke, the more rigid her muscles became. John felt slightly guilty asking about this so close to the peak of the lunar cycle. Her voice seemed stuck a moment, and she was staring at the door. The porch light flicked on, and the kitchen light went off. Amy must have given up snooping for now.

"Anyways." She sighed and began peeling the label of the bottle with her nail. "He came down after moonrise. At my age, one bite would have been sufficient, but he wanted people to be able to see my disfigurement from a distance. You're a doctor, a healer, I'm sure you know that werewolf wounds can't be magiked away. The scars are permanent, as the source of the condition." Rose sighed. "He tortured me for two whole days, but the werewolf community got to him before the Magistrate could. My mum said the entire department was out looking for me, but Jimmy had warded his place against scrying. So, every werewolf within a hundred mile radius banned together and tracked us down. They waited patiently until sunrise, and then they filled him full of silver bullets." She gave a sarcastic chuckle. "I made the front page of the paper for a week, the first person to be intentionally infected in England for fifty years. You'd think people would be nicer about it, but nope."

John felt his heart sink. Even after all these years, it was obvious how much she still harbored inside over this. She wasn't crying, but her eyes were glassy and far away. She looked up at the lopsided, silver ball over their head and sighed. "I'm sure your dad still loved you. I can look at you and tell that Jimmy's plan to ruin that failed." Waiting for her to turn away, he reached out to brush hair from her face. She didn't flinch, only met his eyes with a said smile.

"Yeah, for the next two years he went above and beyond ensuring I had everything I needed." Rose huffed and fiddled with the lace of her boot. "But then there was the accident. Someone brought a baby dragon into London, and he was one of the first people there to round it up. It set a fire, in it's panic. The entire squad didn't walk out of that building. They saved twenty-five Plainfolk, got them to safety, going back in to subdue the dragon. I never saw him again. Mum wouldn't even have an open casket funeral, because of the burns. So it was just me and her after that."

This time Rose did sniffle. It spoke volumes to John that her father's death was more painful that her own fate. He took her hand, lacing his fingers gently through hers. It was the first time he had touched her so plainly that a vision didn't come on. Rose seemed a bit confused as she looked down at their joined hands. "I didn't want you to cry."

"I'm not." Rose sniffed again and wiped her eye, smudging her makeup just a bit. "It's getting late. You should probably go." She dropped his hand, pulling her feet under her to stand.

"Rose, wait." It seemed he said that a lot out here. John reached for her hand again, tugging her back down. "Thank you, for telling me your story."

"Usually by now, people can't wait to get away from me." Rose gave a self deprecating smile and settled back down, this time so close their knees brushed together.

"I told you, you don't scare me." Oh she did, in so many ways, but not the fact of what she was he was terrified, because the more time he spent with her, the more their timelines knitted together. There was a choice here, he could see the pink thread pushing to his golden one.

Rose squeezed his hand gently, and that feistiness he had been drawn from the start crossed her face. "So you say." She arched an eyebrow, smiling at him as if to say she didn't believe it.

John couldn't stop himself. He was tired of hiding, ignoring things that could bring him joy instead of safety. He cupped her cheek in his free palm and pressed his lips to hers. Rose gasped, and in an explosion behind his eyelids, their timelines crashed together in a tangled mess.

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

Rose had definitely not been expecting that. A friendly hug, a playful shoulder bump, that is what she expected. John's lips brushing against hers made her head spin. Having him this close, she was swimming in his essence. He tasted as delightful as he smelled, heady, intoxicating, and pulling her in for more. She relaxed into it, not quite sure of how to go about properly kissing someone. He caught her lip in between his own, flicking his tongue across it lightly.

Some part of her brain registered that he was asking for permission to deepen the kiss. Yet those few moments left her breathless, unsteady even though she was seated. John pulled away sharply, dropping his hand from her face. The sudden absence of his warm touch disoriented her even more. "John..." Her voice sounded way more calm than she felt. She had just spilled her story to a basic stranger, expecting him to run. Yet the polar opposite had happened. Her brain was unsure how to process this.

John scratched the back of his neck, his own cheeks flushing, and she realized suddenly it was with rejection. "Rose, I'm sorry. I didn't -" She didn't let him finish. Grabbing his tie, she pulled him in again. This time, their lips met hard and clumsily, noses bumping roughly. She buried one hand in his hair, reveling in finally finding out how soft and pliant it was.

He cupped the back of her hair, seeming to understand she was inexperienced in this, and tilted her head slightly. The change in position was so much better, and Rose closed her eyes. A warmth formed in her chest, one she had never experienced before, and she sighed against his lips. He took advantage of the momentary opening and brushed his tongue against hers. He tasted like bliss, and her head spun again. This time, when he pulled away, it was slower and more reluctant.

"Wow." His single word was exactly the only thought in her mind. "That was..."

"Exactly." Rose felt a giggle bubble up inside her chest. The giggle was ruined by a sudden wave of insecurity. Damn the mood swings the impending moon brought. He couldn't possibly find her attractive that way. It had to be pity, she had basically begged it of him. Of course he obliged. That thought hit her hard, and she jerked back from his hand that was slowly stroking its way down her neck and across her shoulder.

"Are you okay? Did I do something wrong?" She couldn't bring herself look at his face.

"I don't need your pity." She hadn't meant to snap, but years of protecting herself from the cruelty of others had made it so simple to sound that way. She scrambled to her feet, tugging the skirt down as far as she could. This had been a mistake. Amy was wrong.

"Pity? What?!" John followed suit, reaching for her hand. "Rose, look at me." The pleading in his voice was too much for her to ignore. She looked up, and his eyes shone with hurt and confusion. "Do you honestly think that was a pity kiss? Did that feel like one?"

"I dunno." She kicked at the grass averting her eyes. "I've never really been kissed before." She gazed up at him through her hair again, gauging his response carefully.

"Never been kissed?" Disbelief colored his face. "But you're so beautiful and funny and...." his voice trailed off and disbelief turned to understanding. "You're serious?"

Rose suddenly felt vulnerable. She hadn't felt that way in a long time, and it burned inside of her. "I'm not exactly the ideal girl to being home to the parents, yeah?" There it was, the crux of her sudden change.

"Rubbish." John snorted and pulled her to him. His arms wound possessively around her waist, and Rose's face pressed into her tie. "You're brilliant."

"You don't even know me that well." Rose's voice was muffled by his chest, and she deeply inhaled, his aroma more addictive with each second.

"I want to." His voice sounded conflicted for a moment, and she looked up. "I shouldn't want to, you know. It's dangerous for me and for sister." He gave her a wry smile, as if it was useless to talk himself out of it. "But, I very much want to."

Rose knew the danger wasn't from her so much as it was from everyone else. This was going to be tricky. "Me too." A vibrating sensation tickled her hip, and she jumped back. "What was that?"

John huffed and dug in his pocket, pulling out a small mobile phone. "Bollocks! I totally forgot I'm supposed to pick Donna up in twenty minutes." His fingers flew across the buttons, and he shoved it back in his pocket. "I have to go. When can I see you again?"

Rose frowned, calculating the days in her head. "I get off work at six tomorrow. I can come over there, or we can meet somewhere."

"I'll pick you up at seven thirty." John's face lit up. "That okay?"

Rose's stomach did a flip, and she smiled right back. "Sounds perfect."

"It's a date then." John gave something between a giggle and a hum and kissed her briefly on the lips. He squeezed her lightly before letting go, snagged his coat in one hand, and headed towards the wall. He jumped to the top, turned hazardously on one foot to wink at her, then disappeared from view.

"A date." The words seemed foreign on her tongue as she scooped up their rubbish and walked to the house. It was surprising that it didn't yank open to reveal Amy standing there. She stepped inside, and her friend was very intently staring at a magazine. The magazine was, coincidentally, upside down. Rose cleared her throat, and Amy looked up, feigning being startled.

"So, how did it go?" She folded the magazine and raised her eyebrows.

"Like you weren't peeking through the window." Rose snorted and made to throw the trash from dinner away. She couldn't help but smiling though

"Only for a little bit." Amy didn't look the least bit ashamed. "Your lipgloss is a bit smeared. Is that from the food or...."

Rose touched her lips. "What do you think?"

Amy squealed and jumped up. "How did you even meet this guy? Who is he? Is he a faery? How old is he?" Rose clapped a hand over her lips to quiet her down.

"Remember when I made the Hemsborne arrest?" Amy nodded, and Rose lowered her hand. "He thought it was just a fight and was going to break it up. He isn't a faery. He's a wizard, and his name is John McCrimmon." Rose figured that name would work since he had used it. "He didn't grow up here. He lived in the states and moved here when he was a teen." Rose made a mental note to pass that cover story on the John.

"And he knows?" Amy made a wide gesture down Rose's torso.

"Yeah," She grinned, walking past Amy towards the hall to the bedrooms. "And we have a date tomorrow." She paused at her own door. "Don't tell anyone yet, okay?" Amy did a victory dance as she headed to her own room.

As requested, Amy kept her silence. Yet, Jack seemed to notice the small pep in Rose's step throughout work the next day. He was busy most of the day, interviewing a few potential applicants, so Rose was able to avoid his questions. However, she knew she was going to be interrogated as to her constant smile all day, when he cornered her during their afternoon debrief.

Harriet was handing out shifts for the weekend. Multiple agents would be going undercover around the city to try and pinpoint the kidnapper or kidnappers that was or were snatching up girls still. The situation was growing more dire. Instead of one a week, there had been five so far. Only three had survived. The Plainfolk law enforcement were beginning to suspect a serial killer. Everyone in that meeting room knew different. More and more, whispers of vampyres returning had begun in the streets.

"Miss Tyler." Rose snapped to attention. Jack had been poking her in the ribs for the last twenty minutes, trying to get her to talk. "Yes ma'am."

"I know you are technically supposed to be relieved from duty this weekend." Harriet bore a look that said Rose was about to either be very surprised or very cross. "But we're going to need your unique talents."

"Sorry, Director." Rose shouldered past Jack so she could see the assignment board more clearly. There she was, listed along side Mickey, Jack, and Amy. "But, Saturday and Sunday are-"

"The full moon. I know." Harriet nodded, held up a black bag up, and tossed it to Amy. "We need you out on the streets. You can hear, see, and smell better than any of our agents. We need you to try to catch on to anything your fellow officers miss."

Jack snickered as Amy opened the bag to let him peek in. Rose bristled. She was an officer, not a blood hound. Yet, she couldn't retort. This was her job. She had been assigned to track trails before, but never in wolf form. "I understand ma'am."

"Because this is work related, we are also providing you this." Harriet held up a small brown bottle, and Rose crossed the room to take it. She could smell the monkshood through the cork stopper before she even closed her fingers around the bottle. Every eye in the room was boring into her back. Rose shoved it into her pocket. "With that being said, everyone working Saturday night will be off tomorrow to get some rest. We need you at peak performance." She clapped her hands. "Dismissed!"

Rose snagged up her workbag and joined Amy and Jack who were still giggling and looking in the bag. "What's in there?"

"Nothing!" The pair chimed, and Amy shoved it into her own duffle bag.

"You!" Amy snagged Rose's arm and began to pull her to the door. "Need to get home and get ready."

"Oooo ready for what?" Jack followed them, keeping pace.

"I can't say." Amy made a serious face and mimed zipping her lip. "I'm sworn to secrecy."

Rose tried not to blush and knew she failed.

"Rose Tyler." Jack gasped and his eyes went wide. "Is that a blush? Oh no baby girl, that's a crush blush! Do you have a date?"

"Yes, actually." Rose quickened her steps. "And if I don't get home and change, I won't be ready when he gets there."

"Oh, it's a he." Jack hummed, keeping pace with the girls.

"His name's John." Amy grinned. "And he's got great hair."

"Amelia!" Rose groaned and broke away from her friends to jog to the transportation zone. It was already six, and she still had to shower and change. As soon as her boot his the grass, she pulled the magic around her and blipped from the park to their road.

She thought she was safe, once she opened her front door, but Amy and Jack had beat her there. "Did you land in the yard?" Rose accused. It wasn't technically illegal, but they did have neighbors on either side.

"Yes." Amy smirked and darted past her to the hall. "I call dibs on her outfit!"

"No way, Pond!" Jack laughed and gave chase. "You can do her makeup!"

"I hate you both!" Rose shouted and trudged into the bathroom. She showered as quickly as possible. Honestly, she wasn't irritated at them. She was just a bit nervous again. The light over the mirror reflected off of her skin. As usual, the effects of the ever looming moon were evident. Her scars shone brighter, making her skin appear more porcelain than cream. Her eyes were brighter, more wild, and her nails had grown at least a quarter of an inch. It would take a lot of foundation and expert use of her contour kit to hide the evidence on her face.

She wrapped a towel around her body and headed into her room. It looked like a tornado had hit a department store. Nearly every item from her closet was tossed on the bed, dresser, or desk. Jack was holding a green clubbing dress Amy had bought her up. "Nope!" He shook his head and tossed it over his head.

"You are both so cleaning this up." Rose groaned and waded through them to ruffle through the disaster. "No mini skirts, no tank tops." She advised, finding her makeup bag under a pile of discarded jeans. She had played this so many times with Amy, before Rory came along. It would take them another good twenty minutes to agree on her outfit, so she decided to do her makeup while she waited.

By the time she had applied the final touches to her mascara, Jack and Amy were humming over something she couldn't see. "Perfect, d'ya think?" Amy asked.

"Definitely." Jack nodded. "Sexy, comfortable, and very Rose."

"Let me see." Rose tightened the towel around her and tried to peek around their shoulder, but they stopped her.

"Nope. Close your eyes, drop the towel." Jack ordered.

"Jack, I am not getting naked with you in here." Rose huffed. It felt weird, letting him see her naked before she was to go out with John.

"I promise not to oggle. This is strictly best friend business." He assured her with a smile.

"I don't promise not to." Amy chuckled.

Knowing she was outnumbered, Rose did as she was ordered. Amy's delicate fingers went to work, first helping her into bra and panties, then helping her step into what felt like stretchy jeans or pants of some sort. Jack slid her shirt over her head, adjusting it at her waist, and then began brushing her hair up into a pony tail. Then Amy oushed her onto the bed and slid a pair of socks and what felt like boots onto her feet.

Jack's strong hands helped her up and guided her over to the mirror on the closet door. "Open them." He murmured in her ear.

Rose did as she was instructed and she gasped. This was an outfit she hadn't even considered putting together. She was wearing a ruby red tunic top Amy had talked her into buying. It clung to her chest, exposing just a delicate amount of cleavage, flaring out a but to stop just below her hips. The sleeves where sheer with swirling black lace designs. Her legs were hugged by a pair of her khaki stretch jeans and ended in a pair of Amy's black boots that stopped just shy of her knees and zipped up the sides. Jack had tied her hair back with a sparkly black clasp, but left her bangs hanging just a bit on the right side in a soft curl. "I look."

"Exactly." Jack winked at Amy over Rose's head. Rose barely had time to admire further, before there was a knock at the door.

"I got it!" Amy cried, running out of the room.

"I don't think so!" Jack yelled after her, leaving Rose alone.

"Just breathe." She reassured herself, grabbing her rarely used purse from the back of the door and sliding her wallet in. There was a crash and and shuffle from the living room, and then the sound of the door opening.

"Oh, Hello." John's voice sent her stomach tingling. "Is Rose home?"

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's so long. I couldn't find a good place to stop without messing up!

John had hoped to be gone before Donna got home, but that had been a failed mission. He was standing at his closet door, trying to decide between blue and brown or red and black. It wasn't that he considered the clothes dress up type. He wore the suits most of the time. This was had him bamboozled though. This was a date. He had been on a handful before, when he was younger and a bit more careless, years ago really. Rose felt different, like there was something waiting beyond a few drinks and a hotel room.

"The black suit pants with the Oxford, leave the tie home, and your red Converse." Donna's voice made him jump. She was leaning against his doorframe with her arms crossed.

"Hey, Donna, good day today?" John grabbed the items she had suggested and ducked into his closet to change.

"Yeah, got a closure on a home. We just have to wait for the final bank inspection." John heard his bed squeak a moment, and he realized she was probably sitting down. "So, another date tonight?"

"What makes you think I have a date?" He stuck his head around the door as he fastened his belt. He hoped he didn't look too guilty. "Can't a guy just get dressed up and go out on his own every now and again?"

"Don't play coy with me, Mister." Donna fixed him with a look. "You had glitter on the corner of your lip last night, and when I went to do laundry this morning, there was mascara and perfume on your tie." She arched her eyebrow and smirked. "You were with a woman last night. That's why you were late."

John stuck his tongue out at her and came back into the room, buttoning his shirt up. "Maybe I was. I'm an adult, I can date you know."

"So who is she then?" Donna stood up and smoothed his collar in the back. "Come on, tell me. I tell you about the guys I see."

"I'm your big brother, you're supposed to tell me." He chuckled and fastened the cuffs on his sleeves. "It's the law."

"Oi, that goes both ways Space brain." She slapped him in the back of the head playfully. "Out with it!"

"It's just a date." John snorted. He knew his lie wasn't very convincing, but Donna would blow a fuse if she knew. "Just a girl."

"So I wouldn't approve?" She turned him around and unbuttoned the top button of his shirt to expose just a bit of his chest. "It's a date, not Sunday Service. Leave these open."

"No, you probably wouldn't approve. You never do anyways." He snagged his keys and his wallet from the side table.

"Don't wake me up if you bring her home!" Donna called after him. John rolled his eyes and headed down to his car. With this traffic he was going to be pushing time, but that was okay. He had learned from watching his sister that women were never ready to go exactly when their escort for the evening arrived.

When John pulled up to her small house, the lights were on inside, and he pondered for a moment if he should have brought flowers. Roses may have been a bit cliche, given her name. Oh well, he'd have to do some digging later. He fussed with his hair and approached the door. There was no doorbell, so he knocked. From the other side of the door came the sound of muffled shouting. That was followed by some scuffling, what sounded like a lamp being knocked over, and then bump into the door.

Unsure of whether he should burst in and see if she was okay, or wait to see if things calmed down, he raised his hand again. The door yanked open to reveal a grinning Amelia and a smirking man. They were both still dressed in the black and gray Magistrate uniforms and looked a bit breathless. "Oh, Hello. Is Rose home?"

Amelia beamed, leaning on the doorframe. "You must be John. I'm Amy. Rose will be out in a minute.

"I'm Jack." The man fixed him with a blazing smile and looked John up and down appraisingly. "Now I see why Rose has been in such a good mood all day."

"I told you." Amy snickered from behind his back.

"So, what exactly are you intentions with our Rose?" Jack's eyes twinkled mischievously. "Because if you ever have room for a third, I would not complain a bit."

"Jack Harkness!" Rose's exasperated voice made the pair in the door dissolve into giggles. "Stop being so crass."

John felt his jaw drop as she pulled the pair out of her way and stepped in front of him. She looked exquisite, and he told her so. "Wow, you look beautiful." Amy and Jack slapped palms together behind her.

"We should go, before they drag you inside." Rose rolled her eyes in amusement and stepped out, closing the door. "Sorry about them, they're a little weird."

"All the best people are." John chuckled, drinking her in with his eyes. The skirt and halter top had been sexy, but this outfit seemed to let her relax more. He reached up to stroke her cheek and kissed the tip of her nose lightly, not wanting to ruin the quite stunning red lipstick that made her lips look so luscious. "Hungry?"

"Starving." Rose admitted. John couldn't help the grin splitting his face as he led her to the car.

"Great, there's this place I've always wanted to try. Never had a reason." He held open the door as she slid into the seat then hurried around to get them on the road.

"So." Rose broke the brief silence as he drove. "I told Amy that you're a wizard, obviously, but I told her we didn't know you because you spent most of your life in the States. Also used that last name you tried to trick me with."

"Smart girl." John was impressed at her forethought to create a cover story. He only hoped he could play it out. Eventually, the truth would have to come to light, but he didn't want to think about that.

They headed to the restaurant he had been meaning to try, and they chatted about how Rose's day at work went. Then about other key points growing up. While he had never ventured to America, he had lived in many different countries throughout Europe growing up. Silence fell between them as Rose swallowed a bite of her steak. He hadn't been surprised at that menu choice, but the look on the waitress' face had been priceless. "No, not just rare." Rose had winked at him as the woman wrote on her notepad. "Look, just show the cow the oven and bring it to the table." John had nearly choked on his wine at that image.

"So, you live with your sister. What about your parents?" Rose took a sip of her own water. She had said something about alcohol neutralizing the potion she'd have to take in the morning.

"Dad disappeared when Donna and I were toddlers. He was a Plainfolk. My mum, Sylvia, she died a few years ago. My grandad is still alive, but he lives in France." It was all true. Wilfred still came up to visit on birthdays and Christmas, but at his age he needed to spend more and more time with their own kind. "He runs a bookshop. He'd like you."

Rose blushed and shook her head. John wondered if she could ever accept the fact that people could see her for her. It was a bit sad, that she disliked herself so much. The more they opened up, the more he saw just how beautiful she was, inside and out. She was funny, a bit sarcastic and cynical in her humor though, kind, and a fantastic listener. Their conversation became more and more easy. She did like getting flowers, and Roses were okay as long as they weren't red. She loved to read, and was afraid of wasps. It seemed amusing that someone like her would be afraid of something so small.

It wasn't until the waitress had asked them a fourth time if they wanted dessert that John realized she was standing there. "Do you?"

"'M full." Rose patted her stomach and shook her head. She dug for her purse, but he wasn't about to let that happen. John slid the waitress the money for the bill and a decent tip. It wasn't like he had a lot of money, but he had squirreled some away as savings over the years.

He knew without checking that it was after nine. "Would you like to take a walk?" He wiggled his fingers at her, amazed once again at how vibrant she shone when her hand found his and they made their way outside. She was warm, incredibly so, almost feverish. "Are you feeling okay?" He searched her face, making sure she didn't appear sick. Her eyes were bright, not glassy or unfocused. The small patches of skin exposed to him glowed as the moon came out from behind the clouds. "You're burning up."

"I feel great." Rose laughed and tossed her head back, a wild smile playing on her lips. "It's just the moon. Blimey, it's never felt so wonderful before." She drew a deep breath and shivered for a moment. "Do you smell that?"

John sniffed the air, but all he smelled was typical city scents and the food from inside. "No, what is it?" It was sort of adorable, to see her like this, excited, unguarded, clinging to his hand. It was too perfect a moment to pass up. He dug for his mobile, pulled it out, and snapped a picture of her just like that.

Rose blinked at the flash, startled from her focus on whatever she had been distracted by. "Did you just take my picture?" Her eyes flickered to the phone in his hand.

"Yes, want to see?" He pulled her to his side and brought up the photo. She gasped softly, as if not expecting to see herself the way she looked. "I couldn't resist, you looked so happy." Rose bit her bottom lip, looking up him, her face suddenly unreadable. "What's wrong."

"Nothing." She gave a single brief huff of amusement and smiled. "Just, caught me off guard." He wondered if he somehow had crossed a line, but she tugged softly where his shirt buttoned. "What's next?"

John drew a blank in his mind. He hadn't exactly thought the rest of the night through. "Um, well." He scratched the back of his neck with his free hand and furrowed his brow. What exactly could they do? Rose was tilting her head back again, breathing deeply. She felt tense against him, like a runner on the starting block. "We could try to find out whatever it is that you're smelling."

Rose shook her head and grinned. "No, it smells good, but, hmmm, I want to go somewhere we can talk more." Her tongue slid across her lip, and his heart skipped a beat. Her sudden excitement and energy was infectious, and her next words caught him off guard. "My place. Amy should be gone to her boyfriend's. We can have a cuppa and talk."

"Right." He hoped she didn't notice the wait his voice pitched high, and he swallowed. Did she not know how many implications could be drawn from that idea?

"Race you to the car!" Before he could respond, she was running. He shot after her, chasing the peals of laughter that she let loose. She was fast, but his stride was longer. He caught her just as they reached the parking spot. He tried to pull her behind him, but her hand slapped against the metal. "I win!" She laughed spinning around to face him, her cheeks flushed and chest heaving softly. Her eyes danced enticingly, as if the thrill of being chased was exciting to her

"So you did." John tried his best to resist the urge to chase her tongue from between her teeth with his own. "So, your place?" Again she seemed blissfuly ignorant to the many things that could mean.

Rose nodded and darted around to get in. For the drive back, John found his ability to babble rivaled by her energy. They jumped from topic to topic so quickly it was hard to remember where they started. She led him inside, and he found the house empty. "No telly?" He was a bit shocked to find her living room lacked one.

"What?" Rose had continued walking to the kitchen, and she turned. "Oh, no. Usually we just read or go out. Is that weird?" She had ducked back in the kitchen.

"Not really." He called after her. Well, it was a bit weird, but he didn't want to seem insulting. "Where's the loo?" He stopped at a hallway.

"Second door on the right. First one is mine room, if you want to take your shoes off." John paused at the plain white door. He was sorely tempted, but he didn't open it. He ducked into the bathroom for a moment to relieve himself and check the mirror. The static of magick from the direction of the kitchen stirred him as he splashed his face and ruffled his hair a bit, and he heard a kettle hiss. She must have boiled the water through magic. When he came out, her door was open, and the smell of steeping tea came from there. He peeked in in time to see her bend over to unzip her boots and yet them in the closet. The tight, stretchy fabric did wonderful things to her legs and rear from that angle.

She looked over and caught him staring and smiled. "Come in, kick your shoes off, fix your cup." She gestured where a tray was sitting on a desk.

John toed his trainers off and padded over to the tray. "You're quite an artist." It was true, sketches and paintings covered nearly every square inch of her walls. Some seemed normal, but others held sharp contrasts, like the one of a squirrel mid-jump between limbs, the full moon behind it in the sky.

"Thanks." Rose blushed and settled onto the bed. "What made you come looking for me that night, when you were in the tree?"

John stirred his cup and sat next to her. "Curiosity, for the most part, and a bit of self preservation. Donna said she met you, and I just had to make sure you weren't going to turn us in." It was the honest truth. He didn't know how much she'd draw him in until she showed up at his window. "Why'd you come looking for me?"

"Honestly, I had to make sure you weren't a threat." Rose laughed. "I mean, a secret family who pretended to be dead. What if you were behind all these girls being snatched? I had to know." Here in her room tension was suddenly beginning to fizzle between them. Their timelines began harder to ignore as Rose's hand brushed his. "I didn't expect to like you." Her voice was suddenly soft. "It's dangerous, for us to be like this. I shouldn't enjoy it."

"Neither should I." John drew a breath to call himself. He shouldn't want to be here with her, but it was too late. He wondered what his grandad would say. He could almost head Wilf's voice in his head 'always do what makes you happy. You've got one life Johnboy, don't waste it.' "Can I kiss you?"

"Yeah." Rose chuckled and took their cups to set them on the table by the bed. John pulled her to him, resting his forehead against hers and curving his hands down her narrow waist. He pressed his lips to hers softly, and she relaxed into him and began teasing her fingers along his neck. It was obvious that she had been honest about her lack of experience with kissing, and a part of him was excited about that.

She was a fast learner though, and after a few minutes of gentle pressing and parting, her tongue flicked across his bottom lip in invitation. Happy to oblige, he twirled his own around hers, chasing it back behind her teeth. Rose gave a delicate gasp and slid her hand down to the opening of his shirt and curled her fingers into the material. His heart began to race, and despite his attempt to keep it at bay, his body began to respond.

Rose pushed closer, coming up on her knees and curving her other hand around his shoulder. "You taste amazing." Her voice was husky, and he failed even more miserably at keeping himself in check.

"So do you." John couldn't help but pull her forward, so she fell halfway across his lap, and he wrapped his arms around her, stroking his fingers along her spine. She blazed through the soft material, hotter than he had ever felt on a person before. Where her chest pressed into his, sweat began to bead up. "You're burning up." He mumbled against her lips, as she sucked gently on his lower one.

"I can't help it." Rose whimpered, pressing her scalding fingers against the few inches of his exposed chest. "I've never felt so... so..." she pulled away to kiss along his jaw. "Wonderful."

His body strained against his pants, and his lips found her neck. Her heart pounded heavily against his tongue as he curled it along the pulse point. Her fingers dug into his scalp, pushing his mouth harder against her neck, and his teeth grazed one of the thin scars. Realization came crashing into him as she gave a throaty growl. Rose was basically drunk. He wrenched his face away, grabbing her arms and holding her away.

Rose's eyes fluttered open, and they were heavy lidded and glassy. They were also shimmering from honey gold to wild yellow. She bit her lip, grabbing his shirt and trying to pull him down. "Rose wait!" He couldn't do this, not with the change so near and affecting her so strongly. It wasn't right. She may as well have been pissed drunk. "Let's slow down, yeah?"

"Why?" Rose giggled and began fiddling with his shirt buttons. "I'm not scared. I trust you." Those were all the right words, but he couldn't give in. His eyes found the partially open blinds, and the nearly full moon taunted him from above the trees. She hadn't acted like this in the restaurant, or on the drive to dinner. It hadn't started until the clouds drifted away. He waved his hands at the blinds, and they snicked shut. Then he twirled his fingers again, yanking a blanket folded in a nearby chair up to hang over them, blocking any light from slipping in.

"Just take a second." Her lips were on his again, and she shoved him back. John tumbled back on his elbows, and snagged her hips as she pressed over him. He gave into the kiss, holding her body firmly away from his as he waited to see if his plan worked. Her movements became softer, more gentle, and after a moment she pulled back with a sob and covered her face.

"Oh, my, god." She gasped, parting her hands a moment to look at him before hiding herself again. "I'm so sorry. I don't know what came over me. Please tell me I didn't break your skin anywhere." She shook, her whole body trembling.

"You didn't." John scooted up and over to her. "It's okay, hey, look at me." Rose refused to meet his eyes. "You didn't know what would happen." John felt miserable himself. He should have sensed something was wrong as soon as she had been so eager. Her shoulders shook, and small droplets tinged black began to drip from the edge of her palm. His stomach dropped, and his heart clenched. "Don't cry." He wanted to hold her, comfort her, but she flinched away from his hands.

He sat there, unsure of what else to say, and waited for her to speak. After a moment she sniffled and looked up at him. "You stopped. You could have let me keep going, and you didn't." She sniffed and wiped her cheeks. Mascara and makeup smeared along the highpoint of her cheek.

"Wasn't right." John reached out, wiping at the smudge with his thumb, but it only smeared more. "I would never, ever, take advantage of you like that." He cupped her chin and kissed her burning forehead. "How about you get in your pajamas. I'll take this in the kitchen, and then we'll say goodnight." He didn't want to leave her like this, but he wasn't sure if she wanted him to.

Rose sniffled and scurried off the bed, grabbed some pajamas from the foot of her bed, and ducked out of the room. John's mind raced. This could have gone so wrong. If he hadn't made that connection, realized the signs, he could have ruined everything. He carried the cups and trays to the kitchen and rinsed everything off. Rose was just coming out of the bathroom, wrapped in a fuzzy pink robe, her face red from being scrubbed, but her eyes returned to their normal amber. "Stay the night?" Her voice was so low he barely heard it, and she looked up from under her now loosed hair. "I don't want to be alone."

"If you want, of course." He was too far gone to refuse her, and he followed her back to the bedroom. He stripped out of his shirt as she turned back the blankets, and folded it over a chair. Rose slipped the robe off, revealing a pair of black shorts and a powder blue tank top. Her skin was whiter than a porcelain doll, and her scars were shiny pink and taut against her skin. It was, without a doubt in his mind, the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. As he slid in bed, she curled up to his side, and her radiating heat left little need for a sheet, much less a blanket. She snapped her fingers, and the lamp by the bed switched off.

As Rose relaxed into shallow breathing, John lowered his focus and let their timelines dance into focus. He didn't know her well enough to love her, but there was no doubt it was going to happen. Where his blue and gold and her pink and yellow had been twirling and dancing before, they now were intertwined in an intricate pattern as far out as he could see. Everything in his life was changing, and he didn't want to stop it.

 


	11. Chapter 11

Rose pushed herself up from the floor, trembling from top to bottom. She squeezed her eyes shut, panting to regain her breath as she swayed on the spot. The room spun around her, and she set down to let it steady.

"Is she okay?" Jack's voice echoed through the door. Even though it was obviously a whisper, it echoed around her, and the concern was obvious.

"Give her a minute. She'll let us know when she's ready." Amy was with him now. Rose could smell the fragrant lily undertone of her magik, and the harsh sting of the perfume she had sprayed on wafted under the door.

The change had come on quicker than she had anticipated. She had been expecting it to come later, as it normally took a good thirty minutes after moonrise to hit her. Tonight though, as soon as the moon crested the horizon, Rose had felt it start. She had barely made it to her room when the searing sensation of being ripped from the center of her chest had begun. From then, her normal agonizing change usually took a good fifteen minutes to complete. Tonight, however, it had torn through her like a flash flood, and it was far more disorienting than she remembered it being.

Her vision cleared, and the trembles racking her body stopped. She did a quick inventory of herself, peering back over her shoulder to watch the reddish gold fur ripple and shift as she flicked her tail across the carpet. That thought always amused her, the fact that she retained her ability to see color in this state. Granted, the colors were richer, more poignant than when she was human. She shifted to her feet, stretching her muscles and shaking her fur into place. The carpet, normally so soft against her skin, was slightly coarse on the rough pads of her paws. She scratched at the door with a throaty chuff.

"Told you!" Amy pulled the door open, and Rose looked up at them. Amy was smiling but Jack turned and gave a surprised jerk. Rose sniffed the air, trying to detect any trace of fear. He was her friend, and if he were afraid of her it would hurt. All she smelled was a very attractive essence, more than likely what drew people into his charms. Jack Harkness was a walking pheromone factory.

"Holy hell." Jack reached down and grinned. "I wonder." His eyes glinted mischieviously, and he began to scratch behind her ear. Happy pleasure shot down her spine at the sensation, making her tail twitch. It did feel good, but it was also annoying. She needed to focus. She gave a short growl, knocking his hand away with her paw.

Jack laughed, and Rose pushed past them to the living room. She headed over to the black bag that Amy had dropped on the couch when she came out of her room. The two had refused to let her know what was inside of it.

Amy snagged the bag and reached inside to pull out some black mesh with straps and a long bit of reflective nylon. Jack chuckled, as Rose tilted her head to try to decipher what it was. Reflective white writing caught her eye 'Service Animal in Training'. Rose huffed, hoping the glower of insult was evident on her face.

"Oh, come on Rose." Amy tried to bite back a laugh as she knelt down to fasten the vest around Rose's body. It felt awkward and rubbed against her spin uncomfortably. "Should pass as acceptable if nobody looks too closely at your paws or muzzle." She clipped a leash between her shoulders. It felt a bit humiliating, but it was required.

"Mickey's here." Jack let the curtain he was holding open fall into place. Mickey would be driving them out to the man nightlife areas. .

Rose loped easily out the door, half dragging Amy behind her as she clung to the leash. Mickey was waiting in a nice black car, obviously acquired somehow by the Magistrate. Mickey knew how to drive, as he lived with his grandmother who was Plainfolk. Jack opened the back door of the car and Rose jumped in. The smell of leather was overwhelming and Mickey beamed at her in the rearview mirror.

"Ready to go?" He asked as Amy slid in next to Rose and Jack took the passenger seat. The Magistrate had given them a list of areas to cover, and he soon dropped them off at the first section of town.

Despite the underlying fear the citizens were under, many had been unable to resist the clear warm evening. Amy and Jack walked on either side of her, chatting about various things. That was the mission, blend in, appear to be normal, and let Rose pick things out.

They got some odd looks, people seemed to be a bit surprised to see a wolf walking around on a leash, but nobody stopped them or checked the papers Jack had pocketed just in case. A few women made excited noises, gushing over how shiny her coat was. Rose kept her demeanor, trying to block out the other noises and scents around them. It was harder than the others seemed to think.

"How do we even know we're going to find anyone?" Amy sighed, as they waited for a crosswalk light to change. It took Rose a second to register she was asking her.

Rose couldn't exactly speak or shrug, so she settled for a low whine and a lift of her paw.

"Guess that means she'll tell us?" Jack offered. This was exactly why Rose tended to keep herself during this time. She felt trapped in her own mind. The light flashed for them to cross, and they made it to the other curb. As they passed by a small boutique shop, a strange smell caught her attention. It was faint, a bit sickening, and made her stop.

Amy walked a few more paces before the leash grew taut. She looked back, snagging Jack's arm. "What is it?" Jack asked.

Rose made noise between a whine and a growl in her throat, and pulled towards the small shop. The pair followed, and the woman behind the counter smiled. "Welcome, anything I can help you with?"

"Just browsing, thanks!" Amy smiled, and looked down at Rose for a moment.

Rose pulled her further inside, sniffing along the racks of clothes. The scent was fresh, maybe an hour or so old, but it was more like a contact smell. It was cloying, the more she sniffed, like the time she had found a dead squirrel thawing after a light night freeze. The smell led her to a far corner, and she stuck her nose under the shelf and yapping to get their attention.

Jack crouched down, sliding his hand under. He brought it back out, clutching a crinkled receipt for a pub near by. "Is this what you're smelling?" He whispered, so as not to draw attention. Rose snuffled at it, then nodded. Jack frowned and pocketed it. "You think it has to do with the case?"

Rose growled lowly, accusing him of doubting her. "Okay, now play nice." Amy shook her head. "Can you follow it?"

Rose thwapped her paws on the floor and pulled towards the door. The scent was fading with the breeze, but it was still detectable. She led them at a brisk pace. It wound down the street, between a bench and a bus stop, and came to an end at an empty parking space. Everything about it, as she concentrated on trying to find where it went, screamed that it was wrong to her. It was death, but not quite, like death that had been halted.

"So, let's head back to the pub, see what we can find? Maybe someone saw something." Amy suggested. Rose didn't give her time to respond and tugged at the leash.

They made their way down the pavement again, coming to a stop by a place called Platform One. The scent ended here, blocked by the closed doors before them.

Mickey parked across the street, getting out to feed the meter, and he took a seat at a small chippy across the road. He signaled them to show he'd keep an eye on things outside.

Inside was packed, the music was loud, deafening to her sensitive ears. The decayed smell was potent here, still fading, but stale in the crowd of bodies. It was strongest near two barstools that were empty at first, but upon seeing her sniff them, Amy and Jack took a seat and began talking to the bartender.

Rose sat next to Amy's stool, trying to figure out exactly what it was about that trail that made her uneasy. There weren't many things that set her instincts on alert: silver, raw wolfsbane, the rare kelpie, and once even a bean sidhe. Each had a particular scent, and none of those fit this one.

The door opened again, bringing in a gust of wind. Rose's heart skipped and then she felt a tinge of panic. The breeze carried a familiar smell, one that was still currently clinging to her bedsheets and pillow. John was holding the door open for someone, and Donna came in followed by a middle aged woman with a warm smile.

Rose squeezed back, trying to hide between the wall of Amy and Jack's legs. John's voice carried to her ears over the music. "Are you even sure Martha will be here?" He scanned the crowd with an expectant look.

"Of course. Suzie, her flatmate, said she was headed down here for a bit." Donna hustled through the patrons, drawing closer to them. "Did you remember the present?"

"I got it!" The woman they were with smiled, holding up a small purple bag.

"Sarah Jane to the rescue, as usual." John laughed and tossed his arm over the woman's shoulder. "Still, I don't see her."

Rose lowered herself to the floor, which drew Amy and Jack's attention. They looked down at her, and she tried to give them a pleading look. Jack looked over the room, as if expecting danger, and suddenly chuckled. "Hey! John!"

Rose whined and tucked her head behind Amy's ankles. He wasn't going to do this to her. He couldn't. "Oh!" Amy waved, sliding off her stool to get his attention, and Rose silently wished she could slap her paws over their mouths. They were going to ruin everything.

She peeked out just in time to see John freeze and stare at them in shock. Donna, however, lit up like a sun when she saw Amy. She gave John a smirk and twisted her way through the tables.

John was still standing, his arm around Sarah Jane, and his eyes trailed lower. She knew the minute he saw her, because his jaw dropped a bit, and he jumped into action. "Donna! Wait!"

It was too late, the feisty younger sibling was looking Amy over from head to toe with an approving smile. "Hey. I'm Donna, John's sister!" She turned to Jack, and like most women, was knocked down a peg by that brilliant smile.

"Jack Harkness." Jack practically purred, taking her hand and kissing her knuckles.

"I'm Amelia!" This brought Donna's attention back to her. So far, Donna hadn't noticed Rose hiding behind the wall of legs and wooden stools.

John was grimacing, his cheeks flushed in embarrassment, and he tugged Sarah Jane to a stop. "Right, hi, well." He seemed at a loss for words, his eyes flickering down to Rose and back up to her friends.

"Great to see you again." Jack clapped his shoulder. "I heard Thursday night was a blast." At this, Amy elbowed Jack and Rose was grateful, but this just made Donna's eyes sparkle.

"You said I wouldn't approve, John, but Amelia seems like a nice girl." At Donna's words, Amy laughed out loud.

"Oh, not me!" Amy shook her head. "He went out with our friend Rose."

Donna's smile dropped. It didn't take her long to make the connection, and Rose held back a whine. "Rose Tyler?" Donna's voice went from friendly to disbelief in a hurry and her eyes flashed between John and the pair standing before her. "Are you flipping kidding me John?"

Sarah Jane seemed to understand that something was going on, and she clapped her hands. "Well, hi. I'm Sarah Jane, John and Donna's neighbor." The unexpected sound of her palms meeting made Rose jump a bit. She knocked a stool and all eyes flashed down. "Oh my, what a beautiful dog."

"Wolf more like it." Donna sneered and John finally spoke.

"Obviously, Donna. Anyone with two eyes could see that." John finally spoke, and his voice was strained. "And we don't want to interrupt your evening. We're just meeting a friend. Tell Rose I said hi, and I'll see her Monday, so we can talk."

"Oh no the hell you won't!" Donna rounded on her brother. "Are you out of your mind? You know what she is! Everyone in this room can see it!"

"Excuse me!" Jack cut everyone off. "Are you implying that Rose isn't good enough for your brother?"

"Hey!" A sharp voice brought everyone to silence. The bartender had slapped the bar. "John, Donna, Sarah Jane, I know you guys come here a lot, but if you don't settle down, you'll have to leave!"

"Sorry, Jake." Sarah Jane fixed the siblings with a stern look. "We'll keep it quiet, but have you seen Martha? She was supposed to be here when we came in?"

"Yeah. She came in, had a drink, started chatting with this really rich looking bloke, and they left about an hour and a half ago." Rose couldn't see him from where she was crouched. "Were sitting here, actually."

"Shit!" Amy yelped, tugging on Rose's leash. "Damn it! Jack, we have to report in."

"I'm a bit confused, what's going on?" Sarah Jane asked, looking at the four people.

"Donna, take Sarah Jane home." John's riled grimace turned to a worried frown. "Now!"

"Hell no. I'm not sitting by while you ruin everything!" Donna stomped her foot.

"I'm not sure exactly what you think is going on, Miss McCrimmon." Amy huffed. "But Jack and I are working a very important case and your friend may be in danger." Rose came out from behind the stool, trying hard to avoid the glower Donna sent her way. This was going to happen eventually, but it still stung. "So you need to take your bigoted attitude about Rose and shove it! We need to ask you some questions."

"Come outside, now." Jack grabbed Donna by the arm. She wrenched it away and shoved her way to the door. The rest followed after, Rose feeling the situation grow more grave by the second. They reached the sidewalk, and Mickey shot across the street.

"What's going on?" He panted, seeing the way Amy and Donna were staring daggers at each other.

"Mickey, John. John, Mickey." Jack made the brief introductions. "John here is the guy Rose has been seeing, and his friend may have been taken."

"Well shit!" Mickey's eyes narrowed. "We need to take them in, so they can given a description."

"How do you know she was taken?" John cut in. Rose shoved her nose against Jack's pocket, where the stench of the receipt was tucked.

"We followed a trail to the pub. We were asking around about suspicious activity when you came in." Jack explained. He pushed Rose's muzzle away. "Now, what does Martha look like, and more importantly, is she a virgin?"

"I don't know. Do you?" John fixed Donna with an inquisitive look. She was still angry, but now worry was settling in.

"I dunno." She gasped. "I mean, she's had boyfriends, but we never talked about that stuff."

"She is." Sarah Jane spoke up. "She told me just a few days ago." Her statement made Rose whine again. She needed Jack to give John the receipt. She had a feeling he may be able to get a vision if he held it. She bit at his loose pants lightly, tugging with her teeth.

"I told you!" Donna pointed. "I told you John."

"Donna, will you shut up!" John gave an exasperated sigh and knelt down in front of Rose. His eyes were apologetic but warm, and he ran a hand over her head softly. "I think she is trying to tell Jack something, isn't that right beautiful?" Rose's anxiety eased a bit. Of course he understood her. She lifted a paw and scratched Jack's pocket again. "Jack, did you put something In your pocket?"

"The receipt!" Amy piped in. "The receipt we found!" She shoved her hand in Jack's pocket, pulling it out.

"Gimme." John took it in his nimble fingers and closed his eyes. Sarah Jane looked even more confused, but before she could speak, John's eyes snapped open. "I know where she is."

"How?" Jack and Amy chorused.

"I'll explain later." He turned to Donna. "Please, just trust me. Take Sarah Jane home. I'm going to go with them to help."

Rose waited for Donna to freak out, but Sarah Jane stepped in. "Yes, just take me home. Let the police find Martha. Come on. I'll fix you dinner."

Donna opened her mouth to protest, but when she saw Rose staring up at John she closed her mouth. "We need to talk when you get home."

John nodded, and Rose jumped in surprise as his fingers laced into the fur between her ears. "But all you have to do is look, Donna, and you'll see I can't change my mind."


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapter. I just needed this part to stand alone.

John knew he had been harsh with his sister, and guilt sat heavy on him. It wasn't her fault, really. He hadn't told her anything, about the potions, about the changes Rose had told him occurred, all because he had been too worried about how to keep the Magistrate from finding out. It was all bad planning. They knew this would happen, but he and Rose hadn't planned on it coming to light so soon.

Rose, poor Rose, she had to just take everything being said about her in silence. He couldn't even begin to wonder at how she must be feeling. He couldn't even see her face. It was a tight fit in the car, and the only suitable place to fit her had been sprawled across their laps in the back seat. Her head was currently wedged under his arm, and her tail was tucked against Amy's waist.

She was still stunning, even in her wolf body. Her fur was a rust red, fading into black and grey along her back, and it descended to rich cream along her underbelly. Her paws were massive, almost as wide as his palm, and her head was just as prominent, but tapered into an elegant snout and proud ears. Each movement she made spoke lethal power, even the more delicate ones. Her fur was coarse to the touch, despite its silky sheen, but when he laced his fingers into it, the undercoat was softer than down.

Seeing Rose like this was a shock at first. He knew what she was, but actually seeing it had made it more real. It didn't change a thing, because it was still her. He only wished he knew what she was thinking. She hadn't made so much as a whimper since Donna stormed away. John knew that she was going to want to have a talk, but they were forced to wait until Monday.

"Nearly there." Mickey, who was driving, warned. Well, John took it as a warning, but to the other three passengers it was a statement.

John could see it, the thin veil that separated the world he lived in from the one he was born from. Even in the night, it glimmered like heatwaves across the park. Mickey pulled to a stop, and Jack got out. John opened his own, trying not to wince as Rose's weight shifted on his lap, and she leaped from the vehicle.

Rose paused, looking up at him, her yellow eyes bright in the street lamps above them. He knew she was apologizing. John knelt in front of her, reaching around to unfasten the vest she was wearing and plant a kiss on her head. "This is not your fault. Don't even remotely feel sorry. We knew it would happen. I should have told her." Rose snuffled his ear and heaved a sigh.

"The Director is expecting us. Get a move on, love birds" Amy called from halfway to the grass. Rose began loping forward, and the full moon glinted off her fur. John followed, and he couldn't help but feeling that he was walking to his execution. There was no getting around the truth now. He would have to expose his family. The grass rustled under his trainers as he crossed it. He drew a deep breath and stepped through the shimmering air. The plaza was empty, and he paused to take it in.

It didn't seem threatening, imposing, or even dangerous as he had been told. The group was heading towards a two story building, and Rose paused to look over her shoulder at him. She gave a wag of her tail and a yap. John hurried after her, stepping through the doors.

They wound down dark hallways, coming to a large room with a group of about four sitting around a table. "Well it's about time." A young man, somewhere between John and Rose's age stood up. "Who's this?"

Rose stopped in front of John, one paw slightly forward, the fur on her back bristling. She lowered her head slightly, staring down the man who spoke. John trailed his hand along her neck to her shoulders. "It's fine, Rose." He murmured low enough he hoped only she could hear. Her fur settled back into place, but she didn't change her protective stance.

"This is John McCrimmon, Rose's boyfriend." Jack spoke up. "His friend, Martha Jones was taken."

An older, serious looking woman stood up. "How do we know for sure?"

"Rose picked up a trail and we found a receipt. We went to the pub where the receipt was from, and ran into John and his sister." Amy pulled the receipt out of her purse and set it on the table. "He was there with his sister to surprise her for her birthday, but the bartender said she had left a little bit before. Then John had a vision about where she was, when he touched the receipt."

Another woman, this one young, pretty, with blonde hair pulled up in an intricate bun laughed. "Nobody has visions anymore." Rose gave a low growl, and the woman gave a small yelp.

"Rose, knock it off." Jack warned from the other side of her. Rose stared the woman down, and John had to bite back a chuckle. There was obviously some bad blood there already.

"Magister Poisson is right, Jack." The serious woman stood spoke again. "Only one family had that ability, and their line ended seventy years ago in a tragic fire."

John snorted. So this was the story that had been passed. "The fire wasn't tragic, it was planted." Indignation and disgust he had been harboring for years churned in his stomach. Finally, after all this time, he was going to say what nobody in his family had been able to. "You tried to force Idris Chronos into killing herself, just so you lot could avoid losing power. She didn't die in the fire, neither did Rassilon or Romana. They faked their deaths to protect their daughter."

Everyone in the room stared at him in disbelief, except Rose. Rose was staring at them just as harshly as he was. "My mother, my sister, and me have spent our lives hiding. I'm only here because people are in danger, and I know how to find them." He had seen it, the vision of Martha being carried up to an abandoned castle somewhere in the Scottish moors just around sunrise. It was still to come, a few hours away.

"Lies." The man spoke again, snorting. "You're probably one of them, trying to lead us astray."

John sneered at the man. How blind could they be. He yanked the stretchy collar of the tshirt he was wearing down, baring his birthmark to them. He slid the pocket watch his grandmother had given him upon her death, and held it out to the man. "What time does this say?"

"Ten thirty three." The man arched an eyebrow.

John held it out to Rose, and she tilted her head, seeming confused, so John pressed it to her nose. She took it gently between her teeth. "Help me show them." Rose's ears perked up, and she backed away from him to the far wall. "Watch that clock, all of you." He pointed to the one on the wall above the door. "Attack me." This time he spoke to Rose. She nodded once, took two powerful strides, and leapt into the air.

John felt time flow through his body, the way it twisted and turned, never linear, always changing. He threw it out, engulfing Rose in it, bringing it to a crawl. She seemed to freeze in midair, but her fur rippled infinitesimally. It was obvious to all she was still moving, but at a slower count to everyone else. "Keep watching." He pointed at the clock on the wall. No one made a peep. For five solid minutes everyone watched the clock or the wolf moving millimeter by millimeter through the air.

John waved his hand, releasing Rose, and stepping aside as she landed gracefully where he had been standing. "Take him the watch." Rose nodded and padded over to the table, dropping the pocket watch with a clang. "What time does it say?"

"Ten thirty three." The man gasped. "Look, Harriet." He tossed her the watch.

Harriet didn't even look. She just closed it and placed it on the table. "Where are they taking the women?"

"A castle in the Scottish moors. They'll get there at sunset." John felt Rose press against his legs. "I don't know exactly how to get there, but there can't be too many abandoned castles out that way."

"We need to alert the division there. Have them comb the moors." She pushed to her feet, coming around the table. "We'll find your friends and the others. Until then, you and I have a lot to discuss."

John laughed and shook his head. "No, we don't. I don't answer to you, Harriet Jones. I have never until today stepped foot in this part of the world." He crossed his arms and arched his eyebrow.

"You're a wizard. You fall under our laws." She challenged him back.

"You lay a finger on me, and my sister will send the lot of you back to the stone age." John smirked at the looks of shock.

"If you arrest him, you'll have to take me too." Amy stepped up behind him.

"And me." Jack's hand found his shoulder.

"Me too." Mickey stepped up, and that was shocking. He'd only met the man an hour prior, but obviously this group's friendship ran strong.

Rose growled from beside him, a deep feral sound that said she would tear anyone who tried to hex, curse, or touch him to pieces. It was an odd feeling, having so many people accepting him without question. It made him feel strong, protected.

"We need them." Magister Poisson said the words, even while fixing Rose with a look of contempt. "The wolf has the scent. We can send her up to track them."

"The wolf has a name." Jack shot back. "It's Rose."

Harriet stared at them all, her eyes hard but analyzing. "Very well. The three of you take Miss Tyler and a van to Scotland."

"Four." John cut in firmly. No way were they going after Martha without him, and there was no way in hell he wasn't going to follow Rose on his own.

"You can't." The man cut in.

"Oh shut up Adam, you arrogant prick." Amy shouted. She tugged on John's arm. "Let's go."

"Don't forget the receipt." John reminded Jack, and the man snatched it off the table.

John led them out the doors and across the plaza. Mickey darted to a shack near the park and came out with a set of keys. Then, together, the group crossed wordlessly into the park. Once they reached a van Mickey unlocked it, and they all piled in.

"We are all probably fired on Monday." Mickey chuckled as he pulled out into traffic.

"But right now. Let's go save Martha and the others." Amy replied from her seat next to John. Her slender fingers found his arm, and she squeezed. "Together."

Rose planted her chin on John's lap and licked his fingers. "Always together." John agreed stroking the patch of blackish fur on her cheek. "No matter what."


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Again i am sorry this is so short. My muse seems to have taken a vacation.

The eight hour drive was tense at first, but soon the conversation became light. After John explained, very hesitantly Rose observed, about his family history, everyone pretty much fell silent. Amy stretched out on an empty bench seat, and Rose found a semi-comfortable position with her head in John's lap. His hands in her fur felt nice. He had the forethought not to pet her, because that would have been a bit degrading, but he did let it run through his fingers as he stared at the receipt.

Rose wished she could talk, but she settled for twitching her ears and sniffing anytime he muttered under his breath. His scent, this close and confined, was more alluring than when she was human. She decided that musky spice that hung around him must be the essence of time itself, because every time he barked out a quick update of his visions, it flared stronger.

It was tedious for her, not being able to voice her opinion. She felt a bit useless, if she was honest with herself. Rose loved to be in the thick of things: the planning, the decision making, and finally the action. So when Jack, who had switched places with Mickey about four hours in, pulled off at muddy road hidden by bushes and copse of trees, Rose was the first one out the door.

The moon hung low on the horizon, casting the black expanse before them into silver. Rose could feel its power, its musical magic calling her blood. She had never experienced it in such an unobstructed manner before. The smog of the city or the trees surrounding her childhood home had always dampened it a bit. Somewhere, off in the distance, she heard a low peal of a wolf. Whoever he or she was, they were warning all within hearing distance of danger.

Rose heard the others jump, and she gave a nervous chuckle that came out in a throaty chuff. She drew in a breath, filling her lungs to capacity, and replied with a question of her own. Her howl pierced the night, calling out to ask where the danger was. She glanced back at her friends, where they were all watching in stunned silence. The other wolf called back that it was to the northeast, and to avoid it at all costs.

She turned to look at her group and tilted her head at them. John spoke first. "What was that, Rose?"

She huffed a breath and turned her body towards the northeast. Rose took a couple hesitant steps forward and yapped over her shoulder at them to follow. John grinned affectionately at her. "I think she wants us to follow."

"Well you're the wolf whisperer." Jack chuckled.

Together they began their trek. Rose could have outrun them, but she kept pace. The dirt path eventually ended, and they began walking through the grass. A breeze picked up, just after the sun broke the horizon, and as they pressed on, Rose caught the smell on the breeze. It was faint, but blowing right into her face. Again, her wolf instincts told her this was death. She gave a whimper, wriggling back between John and Amy.

"I think Rose smells them again." Amy informed everyone. "That's the same sound she made when she smelled the receipt in the shop."Everyone shared looks, but they continued on.

The more they marched, the stronger the scent became. It blocked out every other smell, except the tinge of time that hung around John like a cloak. Finally, a small dilapidated cottage came into view, and on a small rise behind it sat a small ruined castle.

"That's it." John muttered, bringing everyone to a stop. "That's the castle from my vision."

"Because that doesn't look creepy at all." Mickey snorted. "No cover or concealment at all. Whoever is in there will know we're coming."

"That's if they are looking for threats." Jack muttered. "I don't see anybody or sense any wards. Anybody else?"

Rose shook her head. All she could smell was that underlying stench of death. It coated everything, like the castle was full of frozen corpses. It was now or never. She looked up at her friends and took off at a quick lope. The wind was picking up now, bringing with it the hint of rain.

They passed the cottage, but it was empty, the roof caved in and the walls crumbling. The castle faired only slightly better. The roof was intact for the most part, and the heavy wooden doors were warped with rain and neglect. The combined kicks of Jack, John, and Mickey forced them open. Inside was dark, as heavy curtains hung over every window. The floor was dirty, but obvious paths were tracked from the sweeping stairs in the main hall to doors in the hallway.

Rose sniffed at it, and just below the smell of cold death was a hint if perfume and the smell of fresh blood. Someone, a human and a Plainfolk had come through here. She had gone up the stairs. She nudged John's hand, just as Jack summoned a dim ball of light to hover over their heads. She padded over and pointed her nose at the stairs. His friend, or someone, was upstairs.

"Up there?" John whispered. "Let's go."

"Wait!" Amy snatched his hand. "We can't just go barging up. We need a plan."

"Right." Jack sighed and looked around. "Mickey and I will check out downstairs. The three of you go up. If you get attacked, yell and send red sparks. If you find any kidnap victims, get them free and meet back here in twenty."

Everyone nodded and split up. Rose led the way up the stairs. As they climbed higher, they found the rooms were, for the most part, in no livable conditions. Also, the smell of blood and humans became stronger. It was on the third floor that they found a new door, and it was locked with a shiny padlock. The perfume she had scented wafted under the door.

"Ready?" Amy asked them both, placing her hand on the lock. Rose swallowed. She would be lying if she said she wasn't scared. Luckily, her friends seemed just as apprehensive. Amy muttered an unlocking spell under her breath, and the lock clattered loudly to the stone floor. John pulled the door open, and the three of them gasped in horror.

There were three women chained in each corner of the room. Two had ripped and bloodstained clothes, but one looked completely untouched. All were unconscious, and their heads dangled at odd angles on their shoulders.

"Martha!" John yelped and rushed forward. He knelt down beside a lovely woman with dark skin and hair pulled back in a tight bun. He ghosted his hands over the chains on her wrists and ankles, and they sprung apart. He lowered her head to his lap and stroked her cheek. Anger and relief flashed in his eyes.

Amy set to work with the other two, laying them gently to the floor. She checked them over, but Rose could tell they were all alive. They stank of some sort of sedative potion.

Rose left them to their work, trying not to feel a tinge of jealousy at how affectionate John had seemed with Martha. They were friends. Of course he would be that way. She checked the rest of the hall, finding the last few rooms empty except for manacles and the smell of stale blood. Whoever had been here was long gone or dead.

A loud shout echoed from downstairs. It was followed by the sound of a scuffle, and finally a resounding thud and crack. She dashed to the stairs in time to see Jack and Mickey rushing up. "WE HAVE TO GO! NOW!" Mickey yelled.

Jack was sporting a busted lip, and he grabbed her by the scruff of her neck. "GET OUT!" He bellowed. "JOHN! AMY! WE HAVE TO GO!"

Rose shook him off and grabbed at his sleeve. She pulled him to the room, where the women were finally blinking in confusion. "What's going on?" Amy was helping one of the women, a blonde, to her feet. "What was that banging noise?"

"Went into this cellar, and I got attacked by some lowlife base talent ." Mickey explained. "Jack here found the true culprits."

"Vampyres." Jack looked back over his shoulder. "Asleep, didn't even wake up when we were fighting." He took the shaky blonde from Amy's arms. "We have to get these ladies out of here."

"John, what's going on. Where are we?" Martha was leaning heavily on him, and her voice was slurred.

"I'll explain later." John pulled her against him as Mickey buried his hands in Rose's fur. "Everyone ready to move?"

"Ready." Amy nodded holding onto her own woman. "The park outside the magistrate."

Rose felt the world spin around her as Mickey yanked her into the void. It was the longest she had ever traveled, and the normal dizziness gave way to nausea as the seven of them tumbled to the grass under the London sky.

As if someone had been waiting, Magistrate officials came rushing into the park. They scooped up the women onto levitating stretchers and rushed them away. Director Harriet came running across the grass. "What happened? What did you find."

"Vampyres." Amy gasped, clutching her stomach. Rose was glad she wasn't the only one feeling the effects. "We need to alert the Scottish branch. The whole place needs to be torched before sundown."

"Let's get inside, and you can give us the location." She ordered, herding them ahead of her.

"Rose." John stopped short, kneeling down to look her square in the eye. "I need to check on Martha. She's my friend."

Rose looked over at her team. She wouldn't be much help to them in this state, but she could show John where the hospital was. She licked his hand, trying to convey she understood. Then, his hand resting on the top of her head, she made her way through the Rift and down the pavement to the medical building.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. I had some stuff to go through! But here we go! Final chapter with lovey dovey smutty goodness.

John wound his way up the stairs to his flat exhausted. Between making sure Martha's memories were satisfactorily replaced, making sure he and his sister weren't being arrested, and all the other things that had happened, all he wanted to do was sleep. That was obviously not going to be an option, as Donna was waiting in the living room.

"Are we moving or what?" Those were the first words out of her mouth. Donna was standing there, her arms crossed and eyes narrowed.

"No." John shook his head and yawned. "The Magistrate has agreed to not arrest us or interfere as long as we don't break the Secrecy Law."

"Seriously?" Donna scoffed, shaking her main of ginger hair. "What the hell went on last night and half the day." She looked him up and down, as if his wrinkled clothes and ruffled hair held the answer.

"We found a nest of vampyres, saved a few women apart from Martha, and They couldn't have done it without my visions." That was basically what Director Jones had said. He didn't tell Donna that he had agreed to assist if any similar situations arose in the future.

"And what about your werewolf. She seriously works for the Magistrate?" Skepticism was heavy in her words and evident on her face.

"Things have changed, Donna, for the better." John was coming to realize that. Things weren't perfect, and perhaps they'd never be, but they were progressing. "There's a potion she takes that lets her keep her human mind, and yes she is an agent. Now I want to sleep." He didn't mean to sound harsh, but he was exhausted.

Donna threw her hands up and watched him as he left. He jumped in the shower, and then stumbled his way to bed.

It was muffled voices that drug him back ro consciousness, and the clock on his side table and stiff back told him he'd been out well over eighteen hours. After stumbling to the bathroom and brushing his teeth, he made his way to the kitchen.

He had to blink at the scene before him. Donna and Rose were sitting at the table, sharing what looked like a lunch of fish and chips. Their conversation had halted when he walked in, and his Rose gave him a nervous but happy smile. She looked a bit worn, but awake. Her scars were, as usual, hidden behind carefully placed makeup and long sleeves, but she was relaxed. "Look who finally woke up." Rose chuckled. "Yours is in the oven staying warm."

"I'm sorry, but what?" He gestured at the two women.

"If you two are gonna be dating." Donna rolled her eyes. "I may as well try to get to know her." She shot Rose a grin. "I apologized for my behavior, just ask her."

"She did." Rose nodded and tucked her hair behind her ear.

"I sleep for a few hours, and the world goes mad." John shook his head. He was happy they were being cordial, but it was still astonishing. He found his food where it was promised, and he took the empty chair between them. He was famished.

The ladies continued talking, discussing things like any new friends would, and he ate in silence. Once the meal had been cleared away, Donna had to run to meet a client. Alone in the flat, a charged silence fell between John and Rose as they washed and dried the few dishes.

"I'm sorry you had to expose yourself to the Magistrate." Rose broke the silence, putting the tea cup she had been wiping down away.

"I don't care about that anymore." The realization hit him with force. He wasn't facing arrest or charges. He could continue on the way he had been, but now with a woman he knew would be in his life forever.

"You don't? You aren't angry with us?" She seemed nervous, as if she had expected him to shout at her.

John had to rectify that as quickly as possible. He took the towel from her hand and tossed it to the counter. Then he pulled her to him and pressed his lips to hers. Rose squeaked at the sudden movement, but soon laced her arms around his neck. This kiss was frantic, eager, and she curved her body to his.

"I'm so far from angry." He murmured against her lips. "If it means I get to be with you, I'll take what the universe gives." Her lips were making their way along his jaw as he spoke. They sent little tingles of warmth down his neck to his spine.

She didn't respond, just pressed her lips to his again, and their tongues met with earnest. John laced his fingers through her hair. It was a different feeling from every other kiss. There was no underlying fear of being caught or seen. It was pure, honest, and it was perfect.

He was a bit thrown off as Rose began pushing him backwards, but never broke the kiss. He went with her, letting his feet move the well known path back into the hall. He turned as they reached his room, and he broke the kiss to gaze down at her. "Are you sure?"

"I've never been more sure of anything." She smiled and pulled his lips back to hers.

John gave into the moment, steering her back to the bed and following her down as she lay back. There was no heady lust like the last time they shared a kiss this intimate. Each touch was softer, more exploratory than needy. His shirt came off first, discarded somewhere on the floor, and her hands kindled trails of fire along his skin as she touched him.

He eased her shirt over her head next, appreciating the deep blue lace bra that she had worn. It made her fair skin glow in contrast, and he lowered his lips to the material, tracing his tongue along the edge of the cup along her breast. She gave a sigh of please and grabbed at his shoulders, squeezing with her fingers. The scars here were smaller, and barely palpable under his tongue. Instead of diminishing her appeal, he found it enhanced it.

He moved up, kissing along her collar bone to her neck. "You're so beautiful." John murmured against the four raised lines there. "I know you don't see it, but you are." He dipped his fingers under the soft material to squeeze the suppleness of her left breast.

"I see it when you touch me like this." Rose responded breathlessly, her tongue curling around his ear.

"That's always my goal." He smiled, flicking his thumb across her nipple, and groaned as she arched her hips up to his. "I want to see all of you." He felt her nod, and he pushed himself up. Her stomach was crisscrossed with those same thin red scars, and he trailed his fingers across them to her jeans. He unfastened the button and tugged them down gently, feeling his body roar to full attention as a pair of matching lace panties were revealed.

Rose was blushing under his stare, and the way the pink blossomed along her neck and breast was tantalizing. Some part of him was saddened that she had never been admired and made to feel so stunning, but another part felt incredibly honored that she trusted him so explicitly. He lowered himself, pressing a kiss to the inside of her knee, trailing his lips up to the apex of her thighs. He let his tongue press against the material, and he groaned at the mouthwatering dampness he found there.

She placed her hands on his face, stopping him with a gasp of shock. "What are you...." her voice trailed off as John grinned and pushed the lace to the side and ran his tongue between her wet folds. When it brushed against the hooded bud at the peak of her curls, she bucked under him with a throaty cry. "Too much." Her fingers pulled at his hair, and he let her guide him away. He wasn't dissuaded, because she was still so inexperienced. He dipped his fingers into the waistband and pushed the panties down, tossing them over his shoulder.

"Sorry." He whispered as he pressed a kiss to her navel. "I should have asked."

"No, it felt good, brilliant, just intense." Rose bit at her bottom lip as she gazed down at him. "Maybe next time."

"Whenever you're ready." John made his way back up to her, letting his tongue dance with hers. He slid his hands behind her back, fumbling to unclasp her bra. Her hands went to work, pushing down at his pajama pants. He kicked them off, and they were laying skin to skin. Her wet heat pressed against his hard length, and he had to stop himself from sliding it through the wet curls.

Her amber eyes were dark, as he searched them. He had to know she wanted this, to give herself to him in this manner. "I'm falling in love with you." The words slipped through Rose's lips in a rush, and John's heart skipped a beat.

"I'm falling in love with you too." He smiled, trailing his fingers along her cheek. He had been with women before, but this moment felt like his first time. He was nervous, afraid he'd hurt her.

"Then make love to me." Her words hung between them, consent and request rolled into a single sentence.

John reached down, guiding himself to her entrance, but he stopped before sliding in. "This will hurt a bit." It was only right to warn her. He'd make it quick. Rose pressed her knuckles to her teeth and nodded. He surged forward, feeling the elastic resistance stretch against his tip, and it broke. Rose cried into her hand, her teeth biting into the skin drawing tiny rivulets of blood. He wanted to pause, let her adjust, but that would only drag the pain out.

He picked a quick, short rhythm to begin, enough to bring the pleasure higher than the pain. Rose's eyes were shut, and her hand fell away from her lips. Her whimpers gave way to throaty moans and sighs. "Fuck, John."

The filthy word combined with her tight heat spurred him on. Her raised a thumb to wipe her lip clean, slowing his pace as he did. Then their lips met again. Rose wrapped her arms and legs around him, moving her hips to meet his. Their sighs and half muttered words of affection were lost in the sound of their bodies together. John gazed down at her, and his first vision of her come to life. Her head was pressed back into the pillow, her eyes shut, and her lips were parted panting his name. She tightened around him, her body tensing and fingers clenching his biceps.

Her climax exploded around and beneath him as she howled his name. She trembled under him, arching up into his thrusts and her face and skin flushed red. "So beautiful." He managed to gasp as he struggled to keep his movements. His own release was coming on quick. It had been so long, and the perfection of this union was overwhelming. Some part of him worried only now about lack of protection, but there were potions if she didn't already take them.

John buried his face in her neck, uttering her name repeatedly like a prayer as he emptied himself inside of her. He shivered and kissed up to her lips as he stilled himself. Tears stung the corner of his eyes as she clung to him, and he wasn't exactly sure why. He rolled over to his back, sliding out of her but pulling Rose with him.

Their legs tangled together, and they lay silent as they regained their breath and floated on the glow of everything. A soft noise reached his ears, as the thud of his pulse subsided. Rose was still shaking, but this time it was different. She was crying. His heart nearly stopped. Did she regret it? Was she still in pain? Had he hurt her somehow? "Rose, love, did I hurt you?"

"No." Rose sniffled and lifted her head to look at him. She gave a watery smile. "It was wonderful. I'm just so...." she seemed at a loss for words.

"Me too, sweetheart." John smiled at his silly girl and wiped her cheek with his thumb. "Me too."

For the first time in both of their lives, they both felt like they belonged somewhere, like there was unconditional love and no need for secrets. John held Rose close to him, and when her tears gave way to caresses and kisses, he did his best to show her he'd never let her feel unwanted again.  



End file.
